


Take On Me

by Powerfulweak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Charlie, Alpha!Dean, Alpha!Gabriel, Alpha!Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Community: deancasbigbang, DCBB, DCBB 2016, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, F/M, Gender image issues, IVF, Infertility, M/M, Mating, Mentions of miscarriage, Mpreg, Omega!Anna, Omega!Castiel, One-sided Lisa/Dean, Pregnancy, Pregnancy complications, References to Past Dean/Others, References to past Castiel/Others, Scent Bonding, Scent Kink, Sleep Grinding, Surrogacy, bed sharing, body image issues, non-graphic childbirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-29 21:03:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8505277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powerfulweak/pseuds/Powerfulweak
Summary: Alpha Dean Winchester figured the closest he’d get to the apple pie life and fatherhood was a one-shot, “wham-bam-thank-you-mam” trip to a sperm bank. That is, until he comes face-to-face with the omega carrying his pup on a fateful trip to the grocery store. When the the omega runs off without a word, though, Dean learns the situation is far more complicated than he expected. Can an anonymous sperm donation and the favor of a lifetime help two complete strangers find everything their life was missing?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my artist [Starmouse123](http://starmouse123.tumblr.com/) for creating the beautiful pieces for this story. They are exactly what I pictured and I can't show my gratitude enough.  
> [Art Masterpost](http://starmouse123.tumblr.com/post/152951105200/take-on-me-dcbb-2016-art-masterpost-story)  
> 

 

Dean would’ve never imagined there would be this much paperwork involved in something as simple as jacking off.

Technically, it was sperm donation, but Dean can only think of it as jacking off.

“And this is the Freedom of Information Act. It allows for disclosure of your medical history,” the sperm bank employee says as she passes him probably the 20th sheet of paper for him to sign. “And this form allows for genetic screening.”

“This is… really complicated,” Dean says as he scrawls his signature on another form. When he first stopped by the sperm bank last month, he was just looking to make some quick cash. The Impala’s transmission blew and even with Bobby helping him search for a new one on salvage, he still didn’t have the funds to cover the cost. He’d been racking his brain about how he was going to come up with the money, when Sam had (jokingly) suggested going to a sperm bank. Dean had laughed, but later that night, he found himself on his laptop googling details of how to become a donor.

Really, he was surprised he hit all the required marks to become a donor: at least 5’9” (check), between ages 18-35 (check), has or working toward an undergraduate degree (weird, but check), in good health (like a horse), and willing to commit to weekly visits and deposits for up to six months (for an extra $2,000, _fuckin_ ’ _check_!).

There had been a ton of paperwork to fill out, intricately detailing his family history as well as a ten-page psychological questionnaire which Dean had been sure would disqualify him. Some of the forms had been top to bottom legalese that made Dean’s head spin. He’d wanted to ask Sam to look over it, but was too nervous to bridge the topic. Kid might be a hotshot lawyer, but he’s still Dean’s little brother and having him go over the who’s and what’s of his jizz would just be weird.

“This is what’s required,” the employee sighs, passing him another sheet with the words “Patient Release” printed across the top. “Everything you sign is there for the protection of either you, the receiving clients, or the pup.” Dean can feel his hackles rise at the word “pup.” During all of this, he’s tried not to think about that. It’s weird to imagine that soon there might be a little Dean or Deanna out there. Will they have his freckles or his bow legs? Will they crave pie the way he does or have a knack for machinery or engineering? Dean can’t deny that the idea causes the Alpha part of his brain to flare with pride.

Not that he mentioned any of this during the mandated meeting with the clinic’s psychologist. He knows when to keep his mouth shut. Dean breathes a sigh of relief by the time they reach the final form.

“That's it?” Dean rubs at his cramping palm; bad timing, considering what he has to do next.

“Let’s see.” the employee glances over at a clip board in front of her, checking off lines on the sheet as she goes through them. “We have your family history, you’ve seen the psychologist, and we have your bio for prospective parents.” She glances up at Dean, smiling brightly. “I think we just need a quick headshot for the binder and we can get to it.”

Dean smiles and nods, hoping to mask his nervousness. He’s being ridiculous, he jerks off all the time (ok, not _all_ the time). Hell, in high school he practically rubbed his knot raw.

Of course, back then he didn't have to do it on command while a bored omega receptionist waited just outside the door to collect his sample jar.

Dean stands against the wall and flashes his “Blue Steel” as the employee clicks a couple photos.

“Looks great,” she says, setting the camera on the counter. “Please follow me.” She leads Dean down a hallway lined with non-descript white doors, each labeled with “donation room” and a number.

Dean gets room #6.

“Cups are in the cabinet,” the employee reminds him. She pulls a label marked with his donor number and date of birth from the pocket of her lab coat. “Please place this on the side when you finish.”

“Got it,” Dean says.

“Remember to wipe down everything with the disinfecting wipes before and after your session,” she continues. “There are some magazines on the shelf and a couple DVDs. I thinks it's all alpha/omega, but if you'd like something different-”

“No, that's fine,” Dean says, suddenly unable to make eye contact with her.

“Great,” she replies brightly. “I'll be up front. If you need anything, please don't hesitate to ring the bell.” She indicates a button on the wall near the light switch before closing the door behind her, leaving Dean alone in the room.

He glances around for a moment, taking in the the clinical feeling of everything.

_Sperm_ _banks_ _are_ _a_ _lot_ _less_ _sexy_ _than_ _porn_ _makes_ _them_ _out to be_ , Dean thinks as he reaches for the container of disinfecting wipes and begins to clean off all open surfaces.

He tosses the wipe in the trash before reaching into the cabinet and grabbing out a specimen cup. He places the label on the side, staring at the donor number thoughtfully.

Here he's not Dean Winchester: brother, son, friend, engineer, and gear head. He’s Donor #3178.

“Let's get this party started,” he says, pulling a random skin mag from the shelf.

 

* * *

 

_18 months later_

Dean is standing in the coffee aisle, trying to decide between Breakfast Blend or Blond Roast, when he smells it.

His nostrils flare and he almost drops the two bags of coffee in his hands. It’s barely noticeable, just a subtle whiff that tickles at his nose, but it’s enough to grab his attention. Dean inhales again, closing his eyes and trying to pinpoint the aroma.

It’s almost familiar- sweet and buttery, with a peppery bite, like baked apples and clove. Dean’s feet seem to move on their own and he breathes in again, taking in another lungful of air and catching a hint of honey on top of the initial savory scents.

Dean throws both bags of coffee into his cart and moves in a beeline toward the scent. He makes a right toward the bakery section, intent on buying two dozen of whatever the Hell smells so damn good, but as he nears the glass display case, the sweet-spicy aroma fades from the air, replaced with the smell of flour and yeast..

Dean sniffs several times, confused, before spinning his cart around and backtracking the other way.

Maybe they’re serving samples in the freezer section or someone is-

Dean stops in his tracks, a wave of honey-spice scent washing over him. It floods his nostrils, richer than before and oddly familiar, like something out of his childhood. Dean stares down the international foods aisle, but it's empty save for a lone stocker.

Dean abandons his cart and rushes down the aisle. He needs to know if this guy is the source of the scent. He's never put too much faith in scent compatibility before, but this is something otherworldly. Dean will be lucky if he doesn't pop a knot just standing next to the guy.

“Uh… Can I help you sir?” The bewildered-looking stock boy mumbles, staring up at him with wide brown eyes. Dean realizes he's growling low in his chest as he towers over the boy. The display is embarrassing, but his instincts and adrenaline won't let him feel ashamed right now. He sniffs at the air, disappointment washing over him when he catches the earthy beta scent coming off the kid.

“I .. Uh… I was,” Dean clears his throat and tries to relax his posture. “I was looking for soy sauce.” The guy points further down the aisle, smiling politely while still giving Dean a strange look.

Dean grabs a random bottle of soy sauce off the shelf and drops it in his cart. The scent still clings to the air around him. Dean takes slow, deliberate steps down the aisle, nostrils flaring as he takes in deep lungfuls. As he turns the corner, this time back into the coffee aisle, he stops dead in his tracks.

A dark-haired omega stands frozen in the center of aisle, looking very alarmed, his hand coming up around his midsection. It takes just one deep breath for Dean to know this is the source of the aroma, this beautiful, tempting, pregnant…Pregnant? He’s pregnant?

Dean’s bloods runs cold and he breathes in deep again. He doesn’t smell any trace of alpha on the omega, but he does smell something distinct and familial.

That’s his pup. This omega is pregnant with _his_ pup.

Dean’s head jerks up, his eyes meeting the omega’s panicked blue ones. He tries to think, hoping to recall if he had a one night stand with this guy or a lost weekend maybe. Dean can't place him, though, and there doesn't seem to be any sort of recognition on the omega’s face either.

Dean wants to say something, but he can’t form even the simplest words. The reasonable part of his brain that wants to sort all of this out is at odds with the alpha instinct demanding that he protect this omega and his pup. The scent in the air goes bitter with anxiety and the omega takes a step back, both hands now cradling his belly.

Something crashes behind Dean, tearing his attention away from the man. A dozen coffee cans roll across the floor while a sheepish-looking stock boy tries to pick them up. Dean looks away for only a couple seconds, but when he turns back to the omega, he’s gone, his abandoned shopping cart left leaning against the shelf.

Dean feels like all the air has been punched from his lungs. He twists his head left and right, looking for the man, but he's just vanished without a trace. The sweet scent of pregnant omega still hangs in the air, but it fades quickly, the smells of the grocery store taking its place.

Dean searches futilely for the dark-haired man, pushing his cart down each aisle and breathing deep, hoping to catch another hint of honey and spices. It’s not until his carton of ice cream turns into a soupy mess that Dean gives up, his shoulders sinking as he moves into the self-checkout lane.

 

* * *

 

Castiel drives on autopilot back to his sister’s house. He’s hardly aware of what he’s doing and gets lost three times before finally pulling into the driveway. He turns off the engine, but leaves the key in the ignition, “Take On Me” by Aha playing on the radio. He loves this song, but he can’t bring himself enjoy the music.

The alpha in the grocery store, The way he looked at Castiel and scented him. The memory causes his breath to catch in his throat. The air around him changed so suddenly, Castiel thought he'd imagined. That is. until he heard the soft, rattling growl and saw the alpha staring him down. Castiel’s hand subconsciously moves to his stomach, a flutter of butterfly wings erupting beneath his palm.

_This can’t be happening_ , He thinks. _Everything was planned perfectly_.

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he hears a knock on the window and sees a very concerned Anna looking in.

“Castiel?” She asks, opening the door and crouching down on the ground next to him. “What’s wrong? What happened? Why are you crying?”

“It’s nothing,” Castiel sniffs, wiping away the stray tears with the back of his hand.

“Are you in any pain? Do you need to go to the hospital?” Castiel waves her off.

“I’m fine, Anna,” he says, forcing a smile. “Just a sad song on the radio got to me.” Anna glances at the radio and back at Castiel.

“‘Take On Me’ Made you cry?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m hormonal,” Castiel replies, unbuckling his seatbelt. He pushes himself out of the car, shaking off Anna’s offer to help.

“You need me to help you with the groceries?” Anna asks, moving toward the trunk of the car.

Castiel freezes, remembering that he didn’t actually buy anything. “Uh, no,” he stammers out. “The store was closed. Power outage or something.” Anna nods and heads back inside, Castiel trailing after her, his hand still rubbing comforting circles over the pup.

  



	2. Chapter 2

Three days after his encounter with the omega, a blurry-eyed Dean stumbles out of bed and down the hall of his apartment. His head throbs and the floor seems to tilt in a different direction with every step he takes. He feels hungover despite the fact that he went to bed stone cold sober last night. He can’t decide if it’s the lack of sleep or the haunting scent of the omega still lingering in his nose.

Dean yawns loudly as he steps into his kitchen. He lumbers toward the fridge, but startles backwards when he runs into a body unexpectedly.

“Sunnavabitch!” Dean yelps, grabbing at his chest. He blinks his eyes open, a perplexed looking Sam staring back at him as he slips the coffee creamer back into the fridge.

“Morning,” Sam says, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Jesus, Sam,” Dean groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Uh… I live here?”

“You moved out two weeks ago,” Dean mutters as he pulls out a stool and slouches over the kitchen island.

“I still have a key,” Sam replies, grabbing another mug out of the cabinet and pouring a second cup of coffee. “Plus, I still have boxes of stuff in my old room. So, _technically_ , I still live here.” He pushes the mug of black coffee across the island.

“Well then get your shit and get out.” There’s no bite to Dean’s words, too focused on the coffee in front of him. He murmurs a quick “thank you” as he drags the cup to his lips, pushing past the burn and taking a long sip. Sam considers him as he sips his own coffee.

“You doing ok?”

“I’m fine, Sam,” Dean says, not drawing the mug away from his lips.

“You don’t look fine,” Sam counters, his face pinched in concern

“I just slept like shit last night.” _And the night before that, and the one before that_ , Dean adds mentally. Ever since that day in the grocery store, it was like his body was revolting against him. He’s exhausted to the point of passing out, but at the same time bizarrely anxious. He has no appetite, and his stomach feels like a hollow pit. Even his skin feels like it wants to crawl out of itself.

“This is more than lack of sleep,” Sam says. “Are you hungover?”

“No,” Dean answers adamantly. Sam gives him a doubtful look. “I mean it, Sam. I wasn’t drinking last night.”

Sam places the back of his hand on Dean’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

“Really. Sam. I’m fine.” Dean pushes Sam’s hand away. “You can stop worrying.”

“Not a chance,” Sam says with a warm chuckle. “You always worry about me.”

“Well, I have to,” Dean shrugs. “It’s my responsibility as the older brother. That and convincing you that you were adopted.” Sam rolls his eyes and takes another drink of his coffee.

“Maybe you’re depressed,” Sam offers. It’s Dean’s turn to squint at his brother.

“What are you smoking?” Dean asks, picking up his cup and moving into the living room.

“I’m just saying insomnia, irritability, fatigue, lack of appetite,” Sam lists off as he follows after Dean. “All signs of depression.”

“Or all signs that I have a shitty mattress,” Dean replies as he sinks down into his couch. “You’re reading too much into this.” Sam sits on the edge of the couch, frowning down at him.

“I’m not kidding, Dean,” Sam says. “You don’t look well.” Dean sighs and rubs at his eyes. Sam ain’t far off the mark. He feels like absolute crap, but he’s not about to let Sam in on as to why. He already has enough on his plate with law school and moving in with his longtime girlfriend. If Sam knew, he’d feel it was his responsibility to help Dean out of this mess and the last thing he wants is to be doted on by his worry-wart baby brother.

“I’m probably just coming down with a cold or something,” Dean lies. “No big deal. I’ll be right as rain in a couple days. Now, were you just here to mother me, or did you actually want to grab the rest of your shit?”

“I’ll grab it,” Sam sighs. He doesn’t look convinced by Dean’s excuse, but he doesn’t press the issue. Dean turns on the TV, zoning out to some talk show. He can hear Sam shuffling around down the hall, collecting the last few boxes of his things. He leaves the second bedroom empty save for the double bed.

This will be the first time Dean has lived alone in… well, ever. Not like this wasn’t expected; Sam has slowly been spending more and more time at Jess’ place and finally making the move felt like a natural evolution in their relationship. Dean was expecting a mating announcement any day now. Still, being alone in the apartment at night feels unnatural. He wonders how long he’ll be able to stand it until he breaks down and starts looking for a roommate.

Sam lugs the last box into the living room just as Dean drains the last bit of coffee from his cup.

“You need help out?” he asks.

“Naw, I think I've got it all. I'm just going to run this last box to the car.” Sam runs a hand through his hair and looks up at Dean. “Sorry to come by so early. Jess and I have a few errands to run today.”

“Gonna have a nice little Saturday and hit Home Depot,” Dean jokes. “Maybe Bed Bath and Beyond, y’know... if you have time.”.

“Haha,” Sam deadpans. Dean walks to the front door, holding it open so sam can maneuver through with the box in his arms. Sam starts walking down the hallway but turns back to Dean before he reaches the end.

“Jess mentioned that she was going to cook tonight,” he says. “You're welcome to stop by if you're up for it.” Dean offers a tired smile. Sam means well and normally he would take him up on any offer of Jess’ cooking, but right now all he wants to do is lose consciousness. Maybe if he sleeps through Sunday, whatever this feeling is will pass.

“Thanks, Sam, but I’m just going to hole up for the rest of the day.”

“Social isolation is another sign of depression,” Sam calls out as he continues down the hall. Dean rolls his eyes and slips back into his apartment.

He retakes his spot on the couch, the TV becoming white noise around him as he lets his eyes slip shut.

As exhausted as he is, though, he still can't get rid of the buzz under his skin. It’s like an anxious pull, like he forgot to do something vitally important and anytime he slows for a moment, the feeling intensifies.

He has a pup out there. The thought makes his stomach turn. He shouldn't be as surprised as he is, it was always a possibility. With a youth as wild as his was, it's a wonder he doesn't have kids coming out of the woodwork.

But the omega in the store was unfamiliar, he'd never seen him before (and with blue eyes like that, he would've remembered). Dean has no doubt that was his pup, though.

A memory surfaces in Dean’s mind of a clinic in Denver and the $1200 dollars that paid for the Impala’s transmission.

Dean should be flattered some random omega chose him to be his baby daddy. If only it wasn't making feel so shitty.

After twenty minutes, he groans and his eyes flutter open. He peels himself off the couch and moves to the bedroom to gather up his dirty clothes.

If he can't sleep, he might as well do laundry.

 

* * *

 

As difficult as it was for Dean to focus at home, he was not prepared for the barrage of scents and sounds of his office. His senses already felt heightened, and every key click or muttered voice makes his addled and sleep deprived mind go on overload. Not to mention the mix of scents of every alpha, beta, and omega in the office making him irrational and a little bit nauseous.

Worst of all, He can't seem to find a cause or a remedy for the problem. He tried WebMD and came up short and googling “sperm donor pup reaction” didn't generate anything useful.

“What up, Dean?” Dean startles and quickly x’s out of his search for “alpha donor omega pup encounter” as Charlie comes around the corner into his office. She looks relaxed and way too refreshed for 8:30 am. Looking like the stereotypical IT professional she is, in a cardigan and geeky t-shirt, sipping something warm from a mug with the Gryffindor crest on the side.

“Not much,” Dean says, trying to act nonchalant. “Just… you know, Mondays.” Maybe it’s because Charlie stops by his office every single morning or the fact that they are both alphas, but Dean has a harder time hiding when something’s wrong from her than he does from Sam. Even now, she stops mid-sip of her tea, narrowing her eyes and giving him a suspect look, like she’s staring into his soul.

“What did you get up to this weekend?” he asks, trying to change the subject. Charlie’s face lights up and she pulls her phone out of her pocket.

“We’re having a girl!” She gushes, practically throwing her phone at Dean. He takes it from her, looking at the fuzzy black and white image on the screen.

“I don’t know what I’m looking at,” he says flatly.

“It’s the ultrasound photo,” Charlie replies, coming around the dsak. She takes the phone from him and starts flipping through the images.

“See that’s the head and that’s the arm... and that’s the teeny little hand. Look at the fingers!” Dean smiles and nods, even though each of the images look about the same - fuzzy blobs.

“How can you tell it’s a girl?” Dean asks. Charlie points to another spot on the screen.

“See that?” She asks, “ _That_ is the absence of a penis.”

“Well, that’s awesome, Charlie,” Dean says. He still doesn’t really see what she’s pointing at, but it’s clear from her beaming smile that she is absolutely elated. “How far along is that?”

“20 weeks,” she announces proudly. “Halfway there. Our surrogate actually drove out here so we could all be present for the reveal.”

“That’s nice of them,” Dean says. “Is Anna excited?” Charlie’s smile gets a little softer at the mention of her mate’s name.

“Oh, you know Anna.” She shrugs. “She’s all ‘as long as it’s healthy,’ but if the paint color in the nursery isn’t right, the world is coming to an end. I swear, she pulled every swatch from the hardware store and spent six hours on Saturday comparing them.” Dean nods and smiles, unsure of what to say.

“Well, if you guys need anything, just let me know.” he leans back from his desk and taps a pen against the frame that holds his engineering degree. “I’m pretty handy with Ikea furniture.” Charlie snorts and offers a small salute with two fingers. She’s about to exit out of his office when she backtracks and turns on her heal.

“Oh, hey, I almost forgot,” she says. “We’re having a little dinner party thing on Saturday. You free?” Dean looks up from his computer to Charlie’s hopeful expression. Just the thought of making small talk with strangers makes his skin crawl more than it already is.

“Dinner party?” he sighs.

“Super low key,” Charlie insists. “We're just inviting a handful of people, maybe breaking out the scrabble board later.” Dean wants to say no, but he can hear Sam’s voice in his head talking about “social isolation.” If anything will prove to Imaginary Sam that he's not depressed, this should do it.

“Sure,” Dean finally says, and Charlie claps happily. “Anyone I know going to be there?”

“Uh… Do you know Hannah in Marketing?” Dean shakes his head. “Well, her and her mate, a couple of the other techs, some of Anna’s art school friends, her brother…” Dean hisses through his teeth. He met Anna’s older brother at Charlie’s Christmas party last year. He drunkenly propositioned Dean for a threesome with him and his girlfriend, despite the fact that Dean was pretty clear that he's not into other alphas.

“I'm might have to pass,” Dean says, wanting to avoid an awkward encounter.

“It’s not Gabriel. He and Kali are on vacation in Mumbai right now,” Charlie assures, reading Dean’s mind. “It’s her omega brother, Castiel.”

“Anna has another brother?

“Yeah. He’s our surrogate, actually.” Charlie says. “He’s visiting for the gender reveal.”

“Is that the reason for the dinner party?” Dean asks with a wry smirk.

“That was the original plan,” Charlie admits, “but we got too excited and peaked.”

Dean nods. “Ok. I’ll be there,” he says. “As long you can guarantee Gabriel won’t be.” Charlie makes a dramatic X across her chest. She tips back the rest of her cup of tea and moves toward the office door.

“Alright, I should get back to work. Time is money blah blah blah.” She holds up a hand with the Vulcan salute. “Peace out, Bitch!” Dean grins and turns his attention back to his desk. He opens his top drawer and pulls out bottle of ibuprofen, shaking out a couple tablets and swallowing them dry.

He doesn’t know if the painkillers will do anything to help this feeling, but they can’t hurt. He finishes logging  onto his computer, making a slow start of getting into his work groove.

 

* * *

 

Friday night, Dean pulls his car up in front of Charlie and Anna’s quaint little bungalow. Several cars are already parked in the driveway, forcing Dean to park on the street, much to his annoyance. Anna and Charlie’s neighborhood is pretty upscale, but that doesn’t mean some lost driver won’t side swipe his baby by accident in the dark.

He tucks the case of hard cider under his arm as he strolls up the walkway. Voices can be heard drifting out from within; it sounds like a lot more people are here than Charlie implied. The front door opens before he can even reach it.

“Dean!” Anna says brightly, stepping out the door and pulling him into a tight hug. She’s dressed in her normal look of torn jeans and flowy top, her auburn hair tucked back in a loose fitting bun. Where Charlie is Queen of the Nerds, Anna is Earth Mother. They make a well-matched, if perplexing, couple.

“How you doin’, Anna?” Dean asks, giving her a squeeze back. He pulls away and offers her the case of cider.

“I’m great. Thank you so much for coming. It’s been too long.” She leads him into the house. The atmosphere is a buzz of voices and low music. Dean takes a deep breath in, humming at the savory aroma of food in the air.

“We bought a brick oven a few months ago,” Anna explains as she sets down the case on the counter and takes Dean’s coat from him. “You like pizza, right?”

“Who doesn’t?” Dean chuckles. Anna gestures around the kitchen, encouraging him to help himself before leaving to put away his coat. Dean grabs a cold beer from the fridge and a garlic knot from a baking sheet before stepping into the living room.

It’s not as many people as he initially thought, and he vaguely recognizes a few employees from other departments. There’s a tap on his shoulder and Dean turns to see Charlie behind him.

“‘Bout time you showed up,” She says, offering a one-armed hug.

“Gotta be fashionably late, Charlie,” Dean says. “You know me.” Charlie grabs him by the sleeve and guides him around the room, introducing him to the other guests.

“Hannah, you know Dean, right?” Charlie asks as they stop in front of a vaguely familiar, dark-haired beta.

“Of course,” Hannah says, reaching out and shaking Dean’s hand. “You're one of the project managers on the 6th floor, right?” Dean nods.

“Hannah is head of Marketing,” Charlie offers. “And this is her mate, Gadreel.” The serious looking beta man at her side nods at Dean, but doesn't say anything. An awkward lull falls over the group before Dean pipes up.

“I don't think we've ever met officially,” he says. “I've seen you at a few staff meetings and I get the emails you send out, but it's nice to place a face with the name.”

“Same,” Hannah replies, smiling politely. “Charlie speaks about you often. I feel like I know you already.” They make pleasant conversation for a couple minutes before Hannah excuses herself to get a drink refill, Gadreel following behind her.

Dean glances around, noticing Charlie has walked away. As he turns, he spots her and Anna speaking to someone with their back turned to him.

“Hey, Dean!” Charlie waves him over. “Come meet Castiel.” As soon as his name is said, the dark head of hair they are talking to turns to face Dean.

In a split second, three things happen at once: a familiar wave of honey and cinnamon scent hits Dean, his  knees turn to jelly, and he finds himself staring into the stunned blue eyes of the pregnant omega from the grocery store.

The omega’s expression changes the moment he sees him, going from relaxed to rattled instantly. Dean’s jaw clenches  and he swallows hard, pushing down the growl  threatening to rise up his throat so hard it makes him nauseous.

Dean abruptly realizes that not only is this omega carrying his DNA, but his co-worker and her mate used him for a alpha donor.

If he wasn’t so tightly wound, he might laugh.

Something passes between the two of them, Castiel's large, pleading eyes speaking volumes. Dean can see Anna and Charlie out of his peripheral vision, but they don't seem to be picking up on anything happening between Dean and their surrogate.

“It...it’s nice to meet you,” he stumbles out, offering a hand. “Castiel… Is that it?”

“That's correct,” Castiel says, shaking his hand. His palm is warm and dry in Dean’s and he has to force himself to release it.

“Castiel is my younger brother,” Anna says, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze.

“Yeah, that’s what Charlie said,” Dean replies. “I didn’t realize you had a second brother, actually.”

“Dean met Gabriel this past Christmas,” Charlie offers as an aside to Castiel, whose eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Oh… Well, I’m sorry,” he says to Dean.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, taking a sip of his beer. His eyes fall once again on Castiel’s midsection, carrying his pup, and he waves a hand toward it “So, that’s… an awesome thing you’re doing there?” Dean notices the minute way Castiel’s hand pulls farther across his belly in a protective gesture.

“It’s the _best_ thing,” Anna gushes as she loops an arm into Castiel’s. “He has definitely earned the ‘Brother of the Year’ award.”

“‘Brother of the Decade,’” Charlie adds. “Well… Brother in Law.” Castiel looks away diffidently.

“Anyone in my situation would’ve done the same thing,” he says.

“Yeah, right,” Charlie chuckles into her drink. “Renting out your womb is hardly the same thing as asking for a ride to the airport.”

“Not to mention driving all the way out here just for an ultrasound.” Anna adds.

“I wanted to see you guys too,” he offers, giving his sister a pointed look.

“You’re not from around here?” Dean asks. Castiel tenses minutely at the question.

“Uh, no,” he replies. “Denver.” Dean could’ve guessed that; his sperm bank was in Denver.

“So, Anna,” Dean turns to her. “Charlie keeps me up-to-date on all baby news. How are you doing with all of this?” She sighs and shrugs.

“Oh, I’m fine,” she says. “Just slowing getting the nursery prepared. Paint colors are driving me nuts.”

“I say we just go with white and be done with it,” Charlie says. “It’s clean, it’s gender neutral-”

“It’s so boring though,” Anna interrupts. As the two ladies discuss paint colors, Dean’s eyes meet Castiel’s once more. His face is unreadable, but there is an odd change to the scent in the air around them. Dean can’t tell if it’s coming off of Castiel or someone else in the house.

“Excuse me, I need to use the bathroom,” Castiel mumbles to Anna, touching her arm as he passes by her and escapes down the hall. Dean watches him leave, the ingrained need to follow after pulling at his limbs.

“Baby’s probably doing a number on his bladder,” Charlie says, bringing him back to the present. “Come along, handmaiden. Help us set the table. There’ll be another beer in it for you if you do.” She pats Dean on the back, indicating for him to follow her toward the kitchen.

 

* * *

 

For the rest of the evening, Dean barely sees Castiel. Once in awhile, he'll catch the scent of spicy sweetness or spots a messy head of dark hair across the room, but he’s never able to get close enough to talk to him.

Even when everyone sits down for dinner, Castiel manages to find a seat as far from Dean as he can. Dean tries to catch his eye during the meal, but Castiel seems to always be in another conversation.

It's like he’s trying to avoid him. Dean doesn't doubt that, to be honest. He must’ve figured out who Dean is, in relation to him, otherwise why would he be acting so standoffish.

 _Maybe he's scared_ , Dean thinks. Possessive alphas can do crazy things when kept from their pups, whether born or not. Dean just need to show Cas that he's not going to kidnap him or try to steal Anna and Charlie's child. He might be an alpha, but he’s not a sociopath.

And Castiel would realize that, too, if he would just talk to Dean.

 

* * *

 

Later in the evening, most of the guests gather in the living room, organizing their scrabble tiles for a game while Charlie and Anna clean up.

Dean doesn't see Castiel amongst the group and figures he's escaped into the kitchen as another dodge. He fiddles nervously with a tile, watching the kitchen door and waiting for Castiel to emerge or at least give Dean an opportunity to start a conversation with him.

The game is 20 minutes in when an exhausted-looking Charlie and Anna emerge and flop down on the couch. Dean can still hear water running  and the clink of dishes being placed in the dishwasher. Castiel must be finishing up on his own.

Dean excuses himself and slyly moves to the kitchen, carrying his empty bottle like he's just going to grab another beer.

He pushes through the swinging door, inhaling on instinct the rich scent of the room. Castiel has his back turned toward away from Dean, wiping down the counter with a towel.

As soon as Castiel smells him, Dean can see it; he freezes and turns to face him.

“Hi, uh… Castiel,” Dean says, rolling the name around in his mouth. Castiel stands like a statue, hands still clenched around the towel, staring at Dean blankly.

“Hello, Dean,” he finally says. A moment of silence stretches out between them. Dean waits for Castiel to speak first, but he doesn’t say anything.

Dean takes a deep breath. “Look, please let me say-”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Castiel cuts him off as he closes the dishwasher and switches it on. The move seems strategic; the whir of the motor and water masking their voices.

“Please, just… “ Dean trails off, hands held up in front of him. There’s a question on the tip of his brain. He has the answer, but he just needs Castiel to confirm it for him. “It’s mine, isn’t it? The pup?” Castiel lifts his eyes to meet Dean’s, looking at him curiously.

“You know it is,” he sighs with some resignation.

“Charlie and Anna, they don’t know, do they?” Castiel shakes his head.

“No,” he says, his expression growing cold, “and you will not tell them. Understand?”

Dean nods adamantly. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” he says, but Castiel doesn’t look reassured. His hands cover over the top of his stomach.

“You need to leave, Dean. Right now,” he says firmly. Dean’s shakes his head again.

“Castiel, I’m not going to… _do_ anything, alright?” He says, taking a careful step forward. Castiel moves backward. “I’m not going to do anything to you or try to take the baby.”

“You’re damn right, you’re not!” Castiel snaps, voice coming out louder than before, but he quickly corrects. “Dean, If you care about Charlie and Anna at all, you will leave right now.”

“But-”

“They have worked too hard to get here, do you understand?” Castiel squares his shoulders back and levels his gaze at Dean. “This pup is everything to them and I won’t have you ruining this.” A prickle of annoyance runs up Dean’s neck at the implication. Was he such a terrible choice of alpha?

“I’m sorry but what are-”

“Please, Dean!” For the first time, he sees the desperation in Castiel’s eyes. He picks up on the briney undercurrent of anxiety in his scent. “You have to go. Just… go. _Please_.” Dean looks down to where Castiel is grabbing at his arm. As soon as he realizes what he is doing, Castiel jerks his hand away.

Dean wants to plead his case, but so far all his assurances have fallen flat. He stares at the floor and nods.

“Alright,” he sighs. “Alright, I’ll go. Uh… will you tell Charlie and Anna I had to go?”  Castiel doesn’t respond as Dean pushes back out the door.

The party is still swinging in the living room, a cheer rising up from the group as someone places down a word. Dean heads down the hallway, finding the coatroom on his first try and grabbing up his jacket from the pile. He slips it on and pulls his keys from the pocket, slipping out the front door unnoticed.

 

* * *

 

Castiel stands in the kitchen for a long time, listening to the noise from outside and the hum of the dishwasher. His hand circles over the top of his belly, rubbing at it in a soothing motion. All night, he’d been so astute in his avoidance of Dean, only to let himself be cornered, alone, in the kitchen.

Blame the baby brain, he supposes.

“Castiel?” Anna steps into the kitchen. “Hey, you’re still cleaning up in here?”

“Almost done,” he says, folding the dish towel and setting it on the counter.

“You know you shouldn’t be doing all that,” Anna says, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter.

“You’re letting me eat your food and stay in your house,” Castiel says, mirroring her position. “The least I can do is load your dishwasher.”

“Well at least come out and enjoy the party,” She says. Castiel would love to indulge his sister, but this entire night has left him mentally and emotionally drained.

“I think I’m actually going to get to bed,” he says, pushing off the counter. “Your daughter is running me ragged.” He pats at his belly.

“Alright,” She says. Charlie pushes into the kitchen at that moment, bopping along toward the fridge and grabbing out another beer.

“Hey, Castiel. You coming out to play a round with us?” She asks.

“He’s going to bed,” Anna supplies.

“Aww,” Charlie whines. She glances around the kitchen, a thought abruptly occurring to her. “Hey, where’s Dean?”

“Uh, Dean said he had to go,” Castiel offers. “Some obligation in the morning.”

“He didn’t even say good-bye.” Charlie frowns deeply.

“Yeah, he said he didn’t want to interrupt the game,” he lies. Before she can ask any more questions, Castiel pushes out the kitchen door with a mumbled goodnight and heads to his room.

He shuts the door behind him and crumples onto his bed, not even bothering to undress. He scrubs a hand down his face, replaying the night, and especially his conversation with Dean, over in his head.

Castiel can admit to himself that Dean’s scent was much more pleasant when not clogged by all the odors of the grocery store. Maybe if they’d met at another time or in another life, things would’ve been different, but there’s no reason to think in hypotheticals.

What are the odds? They chose the bank in Denver specifically for this reason. The biological alpha was never supposed to be a factor.

A flutter of kicks tickles at Castiel’s middle. He smiles to himself; she’s always most active when he stops moving. He places a hand over his stomach, whispering a soft prayer for Anna, Charlie and their unborn daughter.

This has been so long coming. They need this win.

 


	3. Chapter 3

If Dean had any illusions that being near Castiel might curb the haze he's been in, they are totally dashed when he wakes up the next morning.

His skin is sticky with sweat and his jaw hurts, no doubt from clenching his teeth all night. He knows he dreamed of something, but he can't remember the details, only the panicked feeling still lingering in his gut. 

His kitchen is thankfully empty this morning, but that also means no coffee ready. He goes through the motions of making a pot, not managing to open his eyes until he takes the first sip. 

He sits in the quiet peace of his kitchen for several minutes, going through the details of last night, moment by moment.

It's Castiel’s prerogative if he doesn't want the biological alpha around him and the pup. Every few months, there's some news story about an amber alert or a massive court case or an alpha raging out when kept from their pup. Dean doesn't blame Castiel for being fearful.

Still though… It's hard not to be a little offended. Dean scoffs at his own voice in his head saying “not all alphas”, the same bullshit line he constantly rolls his eyes at.

But didn't he make an effort to be as unthreatening as possible? Didn't he say he just wanted to talk, maybe get some clarification? Sure, cornering him in the kitchen was a bad call, but they were in his sister’s house for Christ’s sake. Charlie vouched for him.

Dean hadn't done anything to earn Castiel’s trust, but couldn't he at least given him the benefit of the doubt.

Dean growls under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face in frustration.

He'd fucked up. Again. He wouldn't be surprised if Charlie came up to him on Monday asking him to keep his distance from all three of them.

He not even sure what he was going to say to Castiel had he been open to talking. It was just that animal part of his brain acting up again, telling him he needed to be there for his pup. Dean squeezed his fist, the tingle in his fingers still there from wanting to reach out and rub at Castiel’s stomach.

Dean shakes his head rapidly. “Get a grip,” he mutters to himself. He feels the tight tension of a migraine creeping up his neck and stumbles to the bathroom to grab a couple painkillers. 

As he shoots back the pills, he catches sight of himself in the mirror: skin sallow, eyes looking almost bruised from lack of sleep, a shadow of stubble across his cheeks. 

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and turns away from his reflection, not wanting to see it again. He has no time to dwell or suffer. He promised Sam and Jessica, he would help them paint their living room and wire in their sound system. Just because he feels like overcooked shit, does not mean he can convalesce.

He peels off his shirt and turns on the knob in the shower. He’s lived through hangovers much worse than this. This should be a cakewalk.

 

* * *

 

The next week is Hell. Everyday, Dean doesn't think it can't get any worse, yet somehow it does. 

It's like being near Castiel just magnified everything he'd felt before. It doesn't help that he occasionally catches whiff of the honey cinnamon smell in the air, sometimes off of Charlie and sometimes out of the blue while he's at home or driving. 

He’ll be on the brink of sleep and just the memory of the scent will come to mind and Dean will be wide awake again. If Dean didn't know better, he'd swear this was some sort of government torture and Castiel was a covert operative.

“You're still sick?” Sam asks in surprise. “Christ, Dean.” Dean rolls his eyes and shifts the phone to his other ear. He supposed to go to dinner at their Uncle Bobby's tonight, but Dean is currently sprawled out on his couch, a cool damp cloth draped over his eyes, with no intention to move.

“What's going on with you, man?” Sam continues. 

“What do you mean ‘what's wrong with me?’” Dean croaks out, his throat wrecked by lack of sleep and too much coffee. 

“You never cancel plans.”

“Sick, Sam,” he reiterates.

“And you're never sick,” Sam adds. “Either you're faking because you don't want to come to dinner.”

“That's bullsh-”

“Or something is seriously wrong.” Sam's last words land with a thud. Dean has actively been trying to avoid thinking about that. He's read enough WebMD in the last couple of weeks where “cancer” or some chronic condition has popped up more than once. 

Dean sighs to himself, wondering if he should just admit to Sam what happened, when he cuts him off mid thought.

“You should make a doctor’s appointment,” he says. Dean groans into the phone.

“Like I have time for that,” he grumbles. 

“When it comes to your health, you do,” Sam points out. “You could always talk to Jody. She’d be willing to help.”

“No, Sam.”

“How come? She's a nurse practitioner, She's completely qualified-”

“I'm not saying she's not qualified.” Dean cuts him off. “It's just weird. Every time I ask her a medical-type question, it's always ‘when was your last rut?’ and ‘how intense was it?’”

“Those are pretty important things to know, Dean,” Sam points out.

“It's still weird talking to your stepmom about it,” Dean sighs. “Or aunt … or whatever… Look, it's not something you discuss with family.” Sam is quiet for a moment before speaking again.

“I'll let Bobby know you're not feeling good,” he finally says. Dean smiles in relief but then Sam continues, “ _ if _ you promise to get checked out. Look, I know you hate it, but… Better safe than sorry, right? If it were me, you'd be telling me the same thing.” Dean starts to disagree, but Sam's not wrong.

“Fine, fine,” he says. “Uh… Tell Bobby and Jody hi for me, ok?” Sam still sounds disappointed but agrees. Dean ends the call and drops the phone onto his chest. His stomach growls, despite the fact that he has no appetite. He tries to remember if he ate today, but comes up with nothing. Rolling off the couch, Dean heads to the kitchen to make some dinner. 

The problem with not having an appetite, though, means that nothing looks good. Dean stares into the freezer, letting the cool air drift out for a full five minutes, before deciding that none of the microwave meals or hot pockets look good. That fact alone pisses him off, riling up his irritation and making his skin crawl. He slams the freezer door, ready to grab his keys and find some fast food somewhere, when something tacked to the fridge door catches his eye.

It’s a business card from the sperm bank he visited. The front desk clerk had handed it to him before he left, encouraging him to call if he had any questions or concerns. Dean had slipped it into his jacket pocket with a nod and a smiles and returned to Lawrence. When he got home, he didn’t really know what stopped him from tossing it in the trash, maybe just the promise of another round if he was tight on cash again, but he put it on his fridge and soon forgot about it as it blended in with the other menus and fliers.

Dean pulls the card from under the magnet and considers it. He rubs a thumb over the embossed logo of a stylized mountain range and the words “Rocky Mountain Fertility and Health.” He promised Sam he’d talk to a doctor, he didn’t specify  _ which _ doctor.

Dean dials the phone number, wondering if it would still be open, when a woman’s voice answers. 

“Rocky Mountain Fertility. This is Ava, how can I help you?”

“Uh, hi, my name is Dean Winchester. I, um… I was a donor a couple years back.” Dean paces around his kitchen as he talks. “I have this card from you guys and they told me to call if I have any questions or issue…”

“Of course, Mr. Winchester.” Dean can hear computer keys clacking on the other end of the line. “I’ll be happy to help you. Do you remember the name of the physician or nurse you were working with?”

“Uh…” Dean draws a blank. He stares down at the card in his hand and flips it over, the name “Pam Barnes” handwritten across the top, followed by a little heart. “Pam Barnes?” 

“Yes, Pam.” Dean feels a sense of relief, like he aced a question on a quiz. “Let me see if she’s still here or if she’s left for the evening already.” Dean doesn’t even get an “ok” out before he’s put on hold. He taps his foot impatiently as he waits, opening the fridge and freezer again, like something new might actually pop up.

“This is Pam Barnes, how can I help you?” Dean jumps at the abruptness of the voice on the phone. 

“Uh, hi, um… this is Dean Winchester?” Dean clears his throat. “I donated there a while back.”

“Yeah?” Pam replies, a little impatiently.

“Um, and I had a couple questions about… what would happen if... an alpha were to run into the omega who, uh… got their stuff?” There’s silence on the other end of the line and, for a moment, Dean thinks they might’ve gotten disconnected.

“You’re talking about coming in contact with the recipient?” Her voice is steady and low.

“Yeah.” Once again, another long pause.

“Well, it's something we try to avoid,” Pam sighs. “It's why we encourage both donors and recipients to find fertility clinics out of state.”

“I did,” Dean says. He'd done his research before jumping into this.

“Where you from?” 

“Kansas,” he says. “Uh… Lawrence.” Pam hums on the other end.

“Why don't you want donors and recipients coming in contact?” Dean continues.

“There are a lot of factors involved, Mr. Winchester,” she says. “I could go into all of them, but I'm off the clock in 30 minutes. Let's cut to the chase: you were a donor here, yes?”

“Yeah.”

“And you came in contact with a recipient?”

“Well… I think so.” Dean plods back and forth in front of his stove, all at once unsure of himself. “I mean, I could be wrong. I was in the grocery store and there was this scent.”

“Pleasant?” Pam asks. Dean can hear a light scratching, like she is making notes on a piece of paper.

“Yeah, really nice,” he admits. “Sweet.”

“Not to get too graphic here, but did you find yourself having a physical reaction to the scent?” Pam asks.

“Well… I think I might have growled at a stocker-”

“Did you pop a knot?” Pam says flatly. “Did you have a sexual reaction to it?” Pam’s question catches Dean off-guard and a little embarrassed, but he thinks back to the grocery store.

“No,” he admits, “No, just kind of… Happy and wanting to be near the omega.”

“Ok,” Pam says, taking more notes. “And since then, how have you been feeling?”

“Kind of off, sick.” Dean slumps over the counter with his head in his hands. “Headaches, can’t sleep, can’t eat, just generally feeling like my veins are full of concrete.” Pam hums again.

“Alright, this is… interesting.” Dean finds nothing about her tone of voice encouraging. “Dean... Can I call you Dean? Do you think you’ll see this omega again?”

Dean shakes his head. “No.”

“Ok, good,” Pam says. “What I’m going to recommend is that you make an appointment with your regular doctor and ask about a round of bond blockers.”

“Wait… What?” Dean stands up straight suddenly. “Bond blockers? I’m… I’m not mated.”

“No, but it does sound like you may have bonded with the fetus.” Dean’s jaw drops open.

“I don’t understand,” he mumbles. “I bonded with my pup.”

“Well, first, it’s probably best if you not think of the fetus as  _ your _ pup,” Pam corrects, ignoring his clear distress and disgust. “You were the donor alpha. You have no right to that fetus.”

“Of course, of course,” Dean says, gathering his wits.

“I mean it,” Pam reiterates. “You signed some heavy duty legal paperwork giving up all claim to that pup. You shouldn’t seek it out or try-”

“I get it,” Dean cuts her off. “I get it. And I won’t. I understand.” 

“Good,” she says. “Secondly, I don’t think you are quite getting what I mean when I say bond.” Dean moves toward his dining table and sits down. 

“Ok,” he sighs.

“As you mentioned, ‘bonding’ usually refers to mates in a sexual or romantic setting, and 90% of the time that’s true,” Pam continues. “But bonds can happen anywhere and between anyone: friends, family, children and parent. It can be platonic or more romantic. All that bonding is is a chemical or hormonal connection between two people.”

“And you think this happened with me and the… fetus?”

“In my professional opinion, yes.” Pam replies. “In utero bonding is rare, very rare, but it’s not unheard of.” Pam explains. “Especially with exceptionally… virile alphas.” Dean is too drained by this conversation to take the implied compliment.

“So what do I do now?” he asks.

“Stay away from the recipient omega, for one,” Pam replies. “The more you are around them, the harder the withdrawl from the fetus will be.”

“You make it sound like a drug.”

“That’s not a coincidence, Dollface.” Dean wonders if she’s looking at his file with his picture as they speak. “There’ve been cases of donor alphas going wild and attacking recipients while trying to get to their pups.” 

“Jesus,” Dean mutters, quietly ashamed of his gender.

“That’s why I stress starting the bond blockers now,” she huffs. “Seriously, make an appointment with your regular doctor as soon as you can.” Dean grimaces; He was trying to avoid going to the that.

“Can’t you just call them in for me?”

Pam chuckles lowly. “I’m an RN, not a physician, so I can’t prescribe anything,” she says. “But even if I could, it’s better for your doctor to order them for you, just in case you have an allergy or some sort of reaction.” Dean leans his head back and scrubs a hand over his face; this is not how he expected this phone call to go.

“Alright,” he says.

“Any other questions?” Pam asks. 

“No, I uh… I think I’m good.” Dean rises from the table. “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course, Dean,” She says. “If you have any other questions or concerns, feel free to call us, ok? Just not at 5:30 pm.” Dean forces out a soft laugh and says goodbye. He glances at the clock on the stove. It’s almost 6 pm. His doctor’s office is no doubt closed and this doesn’t feel urgent enough for the ER. He debates muscling through the pain until the morning, but after this long he just wants to be done with this bonding crap.  If he leaves now, he can make it to Bobby’s and talk to Jody before Sam and Jess even arrive.

He pushes out of the kitchen door, grabbing his coat off the hook and his keys off the side table by the door. He guesses he’s going to dinner after all.

 

* * *

 

Dean stares unblinking at his computer screen, the caffeine from his first cup of coffee getting a slow start this morning. He hadn't meant to stay so long at Bobby and Jody’s place, but it's always hard to get away, especially when the whiskey starts flowing and Bobby begins telling stories about his time in the Merchant Marines.

Jody had agreed to call in a round of bond blockers for him without much of an interrogation. Dean swears up and down he won’t sell them and he’s not taking any other medications that may interfere with them.

“I expect an explanation sometime soon,” she said, giving him a pointed “mom” look. Dean nodded and agreed, hoping that she’d forget entirely. He’d planned on picking them up from the Walgreens down the block on his way home, but dinner ran late and Dean ended up crashing in the spare bedroom. He'd only had a few minutes to run home, shower and get to work, not even remembering about the blockers until he arrived at the office. 

Dean’s eyes move to the little clock in the corner of his screen. It’s not quite 9:30 yet. Would anyone notice if he slipped out for 20 minutes to run and grab his prescription? Dean logs out of his computer and rises from his desk, peaking out of the door of his office. He walks fast toward the elevator bay, stopping abruptly when he sees Charlie, leaning against the large window overlooking the street below. Her face pinched in concern as she speaks into the phone pressed to her ear. Dean sniffs at the air out of habit, picking up on the obvious traces of alpha anxiety filling the space

“Well, I mean... it is bad?” Charlie says, her voice soft and low. A high pitched voice can be heard through the receiver; It must be Anna, but Charlie’s expression doesn’t change. “... I don’t know, Honey. Have you checked the website as well?” Charlie’s gaze is locked on the ground in front of her, not even aware of Dean’s presence yet.

“Anna, Anna, sweetie, please take a breath,” Charlie encourages. “How’s he feeling?.... Yeah? Ok, well just set him on the couch with his feet up… It’s probably just… gas or something.” Dean tenses on instinct as he realizes they are talking about Castiel. He wants to ask what’s going on, but the elevator door opens and he steps inside. 

The trip to the pharmacy takes only a few minutes, with a very bored looking beta woman handing him his bag with a monotone “Have a nice day.” Dean speeds back to his office, parking in the same spot in the garage that he did before. He tucks the paper pharmacy bag under his arm and escapes into the closest bathroom to read the instructions and take the the first dose.  

He sets the bag on the counter next to the sink, pulling out the bottle and frowning at the tiny, bright green pills. 

“Take on an empty stomach” Dean reads the warning label on the side, tilting his head. “At least one hour before or two hours after eating… Oh, great.” He lets out an  exasperated breath, remembering the bag of Cheez-Its he’d had for breakfast less than an hour ago. He shoves the pills in the bag and head back to his floor.

As soon as he steps out of the elevator, though, he’s hit by a wall of alpha panic and sadness. Charlie is huddled next the window, her shoulders shaking with sobs and tears streaming down her face.

“Charlie?” He asks, stepping toward her. Charlie jerks her head up, her eyes puffy and red. “Hey, what’s the matter what’s wrong?” 

“I... “ She chokes back a wimper and wipes at her eyes with her shirt sleeve. “It’s Castiel… He…” Dean’s blood runs cold at the name and the hackles on the back of his neck rise. Charlie sniffs again and tries to continue.

“I just talked to Anna. Castiel started bleeding really bad and she’s taking him to the hospital. I think… I think we might lose the baby.” Before Dean has time to react, Charlie falls into his arm, heavy sobs shaking her body. Dean holds her, rubbing circles over her back and hoping she doesn’t notice how his heart rate has doubled in panic. They stand there for a minute, until Charlie gains a measure of control once more and pushes away from the hug.

“Can you cover for me? Let Zachariah know I have a family emergency?” She asks. “I just… I need to get to the hospital.”

“Charlie, are you sure you should be behind the wheel?” he asks. “Let me give you a ride at least.”

“I can’t ask you to-”

“You’re not asking, I’m telling you I am,” Dean says, a little bit of alpha aggression bleeding into his words. “You’re in no shape to drive and I bet my car can outrun your little hatchback.” Charlie raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue, just turns and presses the down button for the elevator.

The drive to the hospital is quiet and tense, broken only by Charlie’s sniffing and the click of her texting Anna and their boss about leaving. Dean remains stoic the entire drive, despite white-knuckling the steering wheel. Just the mention that his pup (Not  _ his  _ pup, he reminds himself. Not even a pup yet. A  _ fetus _ .) might die has Dean’s muscles tensing. His head aches with the steady thrum to protect and save the pup, even as he tells himself to get a grip. 

He pulls into the hospital drive, stopping in front of the ER drop off area. Dean’s about to ask if he wants her to wait, but Charlie practically burst out the out of the car as soon as they come to a stop. 

“Thanks, Dean,” She shouts back, not turning around as she runs toward the entrance. Dean pushes back the voice in his head telling him to go to his pup and pulls the passenger door shut, driving out of the parking lot.

 

* * *

 

Castiel sits upright in the the hospital bed, watching the screen attached to the fetal monitor wrapped around his middle. It beeps and hums, the numbers rising and falling with the pup’s heart rate. The line moving across the screen jumps with every intermittent spasm of pain. Castiel closes his eye and tries to breathe through it, focusing on his surroundings like they’ve been teaching in the hypnobirth class, but all he can hear is Anna and her stuttered breathing as she pretends she’s not crying. Even now as Castiel is losing her child, she’s still trying to remain the eternally-strong big sister. 

“Castiel.” Her hands wraps around his. He takes her fingers and gives them a squeeze, trying to be reassuring but failing. After everything that’s happened, after all Anna did for them, he can’t even do this for her. 

“Castiel, please don’t cry,” Anna says softly. His eyes open and he touches his cheek, wiping a stray tear away. He didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” He says, not sure if he’s apologizing for crying or for his failure as a surrogate. The cramp passes and Castiel relaxes. The air in the room smelling like an overwhelming mix of sorrow and the coppery stench of blood, his blood. Anna mumbles something about getting him a water, moving from the chair at the side of the bed, when Charlie bursts through the door. 

Anna is instantly in her arms, Charlie mumbling soothing words into her hair as she rocks her back and forth. 

“Hey, Castiel,” she says gently, separating from Anna “How are you feeling?” Castiel nods shakily, offering a reassuring smile. As she sits on the edge of the bed, Castiel’s nostril flare taking in a new scent coming off her. It’s barely there, but he can still pick it up and recognize it: Dean. 

Castiel opens his mouth to say something when another cramp closes like a vise around his stomach and he doubles over. He gasps in shock, the pain far more intense than earlier. The tightness in his abdomen seems to travel up his chest, clenching at his ribs and making it hard to breath.

This isn’t happening.  _ This can’t be happening.  _

Charlie and Anna are both on him instantly, asking what he needs and pressing the call button. Castiel takes another breath, trying to reconnect with the fading scent in the air. He shakes his head roughly, pushing away the invasive thoughts in his head. Charlie scrambles off the bed, yelling into the hallway for a doctor or someone when he finally finds his voice. 

“Dean!” he gasps out. Charlie freezes mid-word and whips around, “Get Dean!” He jerks his head up, his pained gaze meeting Anna’s very perplexed one.

“What do you-?”

“Please get Dean,” he begs, doubling over again, the stench of blood and pain growing thicker.

 

* * *

 

Dean is three blocks from the hospital when his phone starts to ring. Charlie’s name flashes across the screen. Thinking she might've forgotten something, Dean slides his thumb across the screen to answer it.   

“Charlie, what's going on?”

“Dean?” a soft voice replies. “Um, it's Anna… you need to come back to the hospital.”

“Why?” Dean asks. “What's going on is Charlie ok? What happened?”

“She's fine,” Anna says flatly. “Castiel... He’s asking for you.” Dean’s eyes widen and his heart jumps into his throat. Without thinking, he cuts across two lanes to reach the left turn lane, making the most illegal U-turn in history. 

“He’s asking for me?” he murmurs, 

“Just please get here, Dean,” Anna pleads. “I don’t… Castiel is in bad shape and… I don’t know, just please come.” Dean hangs up the phone without saying goodbye, speeding through traffic back the the hospital. 

He swerves into the first parking spot he sees and races across the lot toward the Emergency entrance. He has no idea where he needs to go and every synapse in his brain is telling him to get to his pup and Castiel.

“Sir! Please Stop!” Dean can hear a voice over the blood rushing past his ears. A short woman in blue scrubs catches him by the shoulders, stopping him from rushing right into the ER. “Sir, you can’t just go through there.” Dean growls low in his throat, tearing out of the woman’s hold. He feels a hand on his arm and twists around to see Anna standing behind him. 

“He’s this way,” she says, tilting her head toward a different set of doors. A look passes between Anna and the nurse and she steps back, allowing the two of them to pass. 

Dean follows behind Anna as they march through the halls. He wants to ask so many questions, but the focused look on Anna’s face tells him that he’d better not. 

They reach the room, Charlie standing to the side helplessly as a tired looking man in a labcoat  runs a stethoscope over Castiel’s bare back. Dean takes a tentative whiff of the room, his face pinching at the overwhelming and unpleasant mixture of scents.

“Dean,” Charlie says, moving toward the door. Castiel’s head shoots up, a look of relief crossing his face. The doctor turns his attention away from Castiel, glancing up at Dean.

“Is this the alpha, then?” he asks. Anna and Charlie begin to shake their heads, but Castiel and Dean cut them off,  answering at the same time.

“Yes,” they say together, earning matching troubled looks from the two ladies. The doctor rises to his feet and directs Dean to the spot on the bed.

“I need you to stay right here.” He position Dean’s arm over Castiel’s shoulder, shifting Castiel so that his nose is pressed to the crook of Dean’s neck. Dean exhales shakily, caught off guard by the sudden, warm presence of Castiel in his arms. His hand sits on Castiel’s forearm, fingertips lightly brushing over the soft dark hairs. Castiel sinks into his hold, his eyes slipping closed as he breathes deep against Dean’s neck.

“Now, I want you to maintain that position for the next few hours.” The doctor makes a few notes on his chart without looking up. “You can move if you need to get comfortable, but try to keep Castiel scenting you.”

“What’s going on?” Charlie asks softly. Dean twists his head around to look at her, a deep, pained frown across her face. The Doctor hesitates for a moment, rubbing at his brow.

“Castiel is exhibiting signs of Alpha rejection,” he explains. “His body is trying to rid itself of the rejected fetus.” Charlie’s mouth hangs open and she shakes her head. 

“I don’t…”

“You’re the fetus' biological alpha, yes?” The doctor asks, turning toward Dean. He nods reluctantly, not able to meet Charlie’s eyes as he does. Charlie starts to object, but Anna cuts her off.

“This is going to save the baby?” she asks. The Doctor gives her a sad smile.

“This is… a last ditch effort,” he says. “For now I recommend Castiel and… uh…”

“Dean,” Dean supplies.

“... Dean get some rest.”

“What should we do?” Anna asks, shifting from panicked to pragmatic in an instant. The doctor glances at Castiel, who has already dozed off in Dean’s arms, and then back at Anna and Charlie.

“We pray,” he says.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Dean doesn't know when he dozed off, sometime before Charlie and Anna probably, their whispered conversation lulling him to sleep.

He wakes up with a crick in his neck and his arm completely numb. Castiel is still draped over his side and shoulder, snoring softly. Dean rubs his free hand across his eyes and glances out the window, the sun setting just beyond the mass of trees. Dean frowns and looks down at his watch, noting that it’s well past the end of the work day and he disappeared without any explanation. Dean goes to reach for his phone, but frowns as he realizes it's in the right pocket of his jacket- right under where Castiel is sleeping. 

“Great,” Dean mutters. Castiel stirs for a moment, but doesn’t wake up. Across the room, Charlie sleeps sitting up, her head resting in her palm and her mouth slightly open. Anna naps curled into a ball, her head pillowed in Charlie’s lap. 

A warm breath puffs against Dean’s neck. He turns his head to look at Castiel. He looks much more relaxed than Dean has ever seen him, especially compared to only a few hours ago. This should be awkward, Dean knows. It should be uncomfortable to have an almost-total stranger sleeping on him and, Dean notices, drooling a little on his shirt.

But it’s not awkward; it doesn’t feel normal either, but Dean has definitely been in far, far stranger situations. Aside from the pins and needles starting to run down his arm, Dean would say this is a pretty pleasant moment

Dean’s eyes drift down to Castiel once more. His chests rises and falls slowly as he sleeps, one hand resting over the swell of his stomach beneath the hospital sheet. Dean glances up at the monitors above their heads, the lines and numbers totally unreadable to him, but clearly much less erratic than earlier.

Charlie groans softly as she wakes, stretching her arms cat-like above her head and wincing in pain as she flexes her neck from side to side.

“Hey,” she whispers at Dean as she extracts herself from Anna, her mate making a frustrated sound before falling back to sleep. Charlie walks across the room and sits in the chair next to the bed. “You been awake long?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, just a minute ago,” he answers. He tilts his head toward the quickly darkening sky. “I missed all of work.”

“I called Adler after you nodded off,” Charlie replies. 

“What’d you tell him?”

“That I had a medical emergency and you drove me the the hospital,” she answers, shrugging. “It’s the truth.”

“He won’t be happy about it,” Dean sighs.

“When is he ever happy about anything,” Charlie snorts as she picks at a nail. She looks up at Dean, her brow creasing slightly together. “Dean, I have to ask-”

“A few weeks ago,” Dean cuts her off, raising his head to meet her eyes. “You wanted to ask how long I've known. That I was the alpha donor, right?” Charlie nods briefly.

“The party?” She flashes a concerned look, but Dean shakes his head.

“A few days before that,” he says. “I ran into him at the grocery store and.. I just knew.” Charlie’s brow furrows deeper.

“How?”

“I don't really know,” Dean says with a shrug. “I called the sperm bank in Denver about it and-”

“Wait? You drove all the way to Denver to donate sperm?” She asks in disbelief, the volume of her voice loud enough to wake Anna. Dean waves off the question; that doesn't matter right now.

“I have a question, too,” he says. “When you were choosing donors, didn't you recognize my picture?” Charlie glances back at Anna, who looks down sheepishly.

“Anna didn't want our choice to be influenced by physical attractiveness.” Charlie says, “We never looked at any photos of potential donors.”

“You never looked at pictures?” It’s Dean’s turn to squawk, waking Castiel up with a start. Anna almost immediately leaps off the couch and sits at the other side of the bed.

“Castiel,” She takes his hand as he starts to carefully sit up. Dean takes the opportunity to free his arm, stretching it back behind him.

“I’m ok,” Castiel says uncertainly. “I’m not really feeling… Oh! Ok, there’s a kick,” He breathes out a sigh of relief and Anna’s eyes start to well up once more. Charlie moves to sit beside her mate, a hand possessively on her leg.

“Have you spoken to the doctor, yet?” Castiel asks, as Anna places a tentative hand on his stomach. Charlie shakes her head. 

“Not since you fell asleep. He said to press the call button when you woke up and he would check on your progress so far.” Charlie looks past Castiel, meeting Dean’s eye. “Dean, can you hit that button.” Castiel looks to his side, apparently just realizing Dean was still there. He looks surprised but not concerned by his presence. 

Dean hesitates for a second, caught up in the blue of Castiel’s stare before finding the button that Charlie mentioned and hitting it. 

Awkwardness settles over the group like a sudden fog. Not knowing what else he should do, Dean moves off the bed, stretching his limbs. 

“I’m going to go find some water,” he says. “I have this medication I really need to take and-” At that moment, the Doctor breezes into the room, followed by a few nurses, who immediately get to work taking care of Castiel while the doctor reads the printouts from the monitors. Charlie and Anna watch him warily, bracing themselves for whatever he says next.

“Well, looks like the pup’s heart rate has stabilized and its movement seems to be constant.” He says. “Castiel, are you in any pain?”

“Not really,” he says as one of the nurses inflates the blood pressure cuff around his arm, “My back aches, but that's probably just from the bed.” Dr. Shurley nods and makes a note on Castiel’s chart.

“So, the baby is ok?” Charlie asks hesitantly.

“Well, we’re going to do an ultrasound just to be sure,” he replies, “but I wouldn't say we're out of the woods entirely yet. This was a high-risk pregnancy before, and this only increases the risk exponentially.” Anna tenses and Dean sees the way Charlie reaches for her hand and squeezes.

Dr. Shurley instructs one of the attendants to bring in an ultrasound machine as he continues to review Castiel’s charts.

“I can say this at least.” He looks Charlie and Anna square in the eye. “Your baby’s chances have greatly increased since this morning.”

Anna’s shoulders drop in relief like a marionette’s strings being cut and she takes in a shaky breath, trying to stave off more tears.

“So what now?” Charlie asks, taking the proactive road. “Is Castiel on bed rest or-”

“Bed rest, definitely.” Dr. Shurley nods emphatically and Castiel’s eyebrows fly to his hairline. “Oh, don't worry too much. You won't literally have to stay in bed all day. Just very limited activity.

“Also, I'd recommend at least 8-12 hours of close Alpha contact per day.”

“Well, I can do that.” Charlie pipes up. 

“With the biological Alpha,” Dr. Shurley clarifies with a pained look.

“Look, I don't…” Anna begins, rubbing at her forehead. “What exactly is happening? I get that Dean is the biological alpha.” She gestures at Dean, standing awkwardly out of the way. “But I don't understand why him being here or Castiel… scenting him kept him from miscarrying.” Dr. Shurley looks down thoughtfully, as if gathering his words. He grabs an extra chair at the side of the room and pulls it up next to the bed.”

“From what I can tell, this seems to be a case of Dabb-Berens Syndrome.”

“What?” Dean asks, his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“It's a very rare condition. Diagnosed cases are about 1 in 800,000 omegas.”

“Lucky me,” Castiel mutters bitterly.

“What is it?” Charlie presses.

“Basically, it’s a biological response when an omega feels it’s being rejected by its mate during pregnancy. The body will force a miscarriage. It’s a fight-or-flight response to make the omega more desirable to other potential mates.” Castiel wrinkles his nose.

“That is some pre-historic bullshit,” he says.

“Castiel doesn’t have a mate,” Anna pipes up.

“No, but his body is reacting to the alpha whose pup he’s carrying,” Dr. Shurley points back at Dean.

“The woman at the sperm bank I spoke to said it was a bond with the pup,” he says. 

“That's apocryphal. You’re not bonded with the pup, Dean,” Dr. Shurley says, shaking his head. “The pup can’t bond with anyone yet. It’s impossible. It’s a zygote. Tell me this? Have you been feeling ‘Off”? Sick? Headaches?” 

“Uh… yeah,” Dean answers, not sure where he’s going with this.

“You’re probably reacting to the pregnancy scent Castiel is putting out and the fact that the scent carries you genetic markers,” he explains. “You’re reaction is similar to an alpha not being allowed near its mate, but no, you’re not bonded to anyone.”

“I’m. Not. Mated,” Castiel reiterates.

“Yes, but your body doesn’t know that,” Dr. Shurley. “It thinks it’s mated to Dean, otherwise why would you be pregnant with his child, and he doesn't want you. Why else would you not be with him?” Castiel looks livid and ready to snap at the doctor, but Anna presses a hand to his arm.

“How come this happened now?” Charlie ask. “Why not months ago?”

“Coming in contact with Dean probably set things in motion,” he says. “Before that, Castiel’s body had no idea which alpha’s pup he was carrying.  _ But _ he meets Dean and it's like the floodgates opening.”

Castiel sighs and rubs his hands down his face. “So, you’re telling me I can’t go back to Colorado? What about my job? My cat?”

“Gabriel can watch Smithereen,” Anna says. “And you’re freelance. You can work anywhere.” Castiel gives his sister a pained look, but she doesn’t seem affected by it.

“You were planning on staying with us for the last month anyway. We’ll just move you in a little bit earlier.” She offers a hopeful smiles.

“Anna, I love you, but four months on your living room couch?”

“We’ll… We’ll move some stuff out of Anna’s studio,” Charlie offers, rising to her feet. “Buy a bed.”

“You can stay with me,” All three heads turn toward Dean. “I have a spare room. My brother moved out a little while ago.” Castiel blinks slowly.

“Uh, I don’t know if-”

“That’s actually a really good idea.” Anna’s eyes go wide and excited. She turns toward the Dr. Shurley. “You said Castiel needs contact with him for about six hours a day, right?”

Dr. Shurley nods. “Close proximity, yes.” he says. “Scenting is ideal, in this scenario.” This conclusion causes Castiel’s to groan.

“But… It’s up to you,” Anna quickly adds. “We could find someone for you to stay with. Maybe Gabriel would let you-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Castiel says, holding up his hand. He looks up at Dean, his expression exasperated but resigned. “Yes, thank you, Dean. That will work.” He turns to the Doctor. “Does this mean we can check out?”

“Well, first let’s do an ultrasound- ah, here it is.” An attendant wheels the ultrasound machine into the room and the staff start to busy themselves with it. Dean watches as Castiel starts to shift his hospital gown up over his belly and suddenly he feels like a 9th wheel.

He taps Charlie on the shoulder. “Uh, I probably should go and make sure my place is presentable,” he says. “I’ll text you my address.” 

“Ok, we’ll see you in a little bit.” Charlie says with a soft smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She turns back to where Dr. Shurley is squirting conductive gel on Castiel’s stomach. Dean watches for another moment, stepping out the door just as the the sensor touches down on his belly. 

 

* * *

 

Castiel sits on his sister’s couch, carefully folding his clothes back into his suitcase. Anna steps into the living room.

“Hey,” she greets, flashing that same gentle smile she’s given him since they were children. “How you doing?”

“Fine,” he says flatly, not looking up from his work. 

“I’m thinking about ordering some Chinese take out.” she says, leaning against the doorjamb. “You have any requests?”

“Not really hungry,” he mutters. Anna walks across the room and plops down next to him on the sofa.

“Castiel, you sure you’re feeling ok?” Castiel makes a noise of frustration and throws the shirt he is currently struggling with in a wad into his open case. Since the moment Dr. Shurley had said “bedrest,” it was like Castiel was no longer a person, just a fragile object to be spoken _about_ rather than _to_. Through the ultrasound and the entire check-out process, the few questions addressed directly to him were interrupted by either Anna or Charlie. He even had to deal with the humiliation of being carted out of the building in a wheelchair, in spite of his protests that he was perfectly capable of walking (“ _Hospital_ _policy_ ,” his ass)

“I’m fine!,” he snaps. “I’m just…”

“You’re angry at me.” Anna’s voice is so small and hurt it almost makes him cave instantly.

“I’m not angry at you,” he sighs. “I’m angry at the situation. I’m angry that I’m being treated like a weakling-”

“You’re not a weakling,” Anna points out. “We’re just trying to help.”

“I’m angry at myself,” Castiel admits. “I wanted to make this whole thing as stress-free as possible for you and Charlie, and I completely fucked it up.” Silence falls between them and Castiel can hear Anna’s exasperated intake of breath.

“The baby’s going to be ok,” she assures, resting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re doing everything right, the ultrasound looked good. Everything will be fine.”

“And now I have to live with a strange alpha,” Castiel adds bitterly.

“Well, I mean, you don’t  _ have _ to,” Anna says. “We can still clean out the studio, get a bed. I’m sure we can find a way to get Dean here for a few hours a day…” She trails off as Castiel shakes his head. 

“The contact has to be… intimate.” He replies. “Otherwise, we risk another episode.” A long silence draws out between them.

“Castiel, if I ask you a question,” Anna begins, “can you promise not to get mad?” Castiel meets her gaze.

“That’s a really bad way to start a question.”

“Did you know about this… Dabb-Berens syndrome thing?” Anna asks carefully. “That running into the donor alpha could cause this?” Her tone isn’t accusing, just disappointed, which hurts Castiel even more. 

“I’d heard of it before,” he admits, nodding reluctantly. “My surrogate forum mentioned it, they…” He gives Anna a pleading look. “It’s so rare and… we took so many precautions. ”

“But you didn’t say anything,” Anna replies, her voice flat. “You could’ve said something, or prepared us for any of this.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” He says. “I thought with as little contact as I’d had with Dean, it wouldn’t matter. The chances were so slim and I just wanted to forget it happened.” 

“And at the party?”

Castiel shrugs. “I didn’t want to cause drama. And I wanted to believe that if I just went back home, it would put everything right again. I don’t know, Anna.” He rises from the sofa and grabs his toiletry bag off the sideboard. “You and Charlie have enough on your minds right now. I didn’t want to add to that. I’m so sorry.” Anna gets to her feet and pulls Castiel into her arms, hugging him tightly around the shoulders. 

“You can tell me anything,” she says. “ _ Please _ tell me anything. I don’t care what it is, you’re not… adding to a burden. You’re giving us a gift, and everything that goes along with it.” Castiel closes his eyes and leans into the hug.

“C’mon, let’s get you finished packing.” Anna draws away from the hug. “I mean it, though: if you don’t want to stay with Dean, we’ll find a way to work around this. I don’t care.” Castiel smiles and shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine.” he sits back down on the couch and picks the crumpled shirt up. “Charlie says he’s alright. I trust her judgement, I suppose. I hope he likes cats, at least.” Anna smiles and moves to the doorway, lifting the handle on Castiel’s carry-on case. 

“I’ll start loading the car,” she says. “You sure you don’t want any take out?” Castiel shrugs. 

“You know what’s good there,” he says, waving a hand. “Just get me whatever you usually like.” Anna nods and leaves the room, rolling the case behind her.

 

* * *

 

As soon as he arrives home, Dean gets to work cleaning up his apartment and preparing the guest room for Castiel’s arrival. He’s far from a slob, but it’s clear that he’s fallen into the rut of letting his cleaning routine slide since Sam moved out. He was always the person who reminded Dean to get his stuff off the dining room table so he could set up his laptop or let Dean know he should change out the dish sponge.

He’s frantically spraying Febreeze across every surface of the living room when there’s a knock at the door. He opens it to see a sunny-looking Anna, suitcases in hand, with Castiel standing awkwardly behind her.

“Hey guys,” Dean says, stepping aside and letting them into the apartment. “Come on in. You have any issue finding the place.”

“No, no your directions were fine,” Anna says. Dean watches Castiel out of the corner of his eye. He circles his head around, taking in the apartment. Dean subtly scents the air, reveling in the scent of the pup coming off of Castiel’s skin. Castiel’s own scent is unreadable. 

“Where should I drop these off?” Anna says, indicating to the two rolling cases in her hands. Dean directs her down the hall toward the guest bedroom. He turns toward Castiel, who still seems to be considering his surroundings.

“So…” Dean slips his hands into his back pockets, trying to look casual. “Uh… how are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Castiel says in a curt reply.

“Good... good,” Dean nods. “Do you want me to give you the grand tour?” He offers with a grin as he jokingly gesturing around the room. Castiel just stares at him seriously.

“I think your apartment is pretty self explanatory,” he replies, looking over the combined space of his kitchen/living room/entry way.

“Uh, yeah, I guess it is,” Dean says, with an awkward laugh. Anna emerges from the room and stands next to Castiel.

“I got your bags put away,” she says, “and Charlie and I will come by on Monday when Gabriel brings the rest of your stuff from your apartment.” Castiel looks toward Dean.

“I have cat,” he says shyly. “You don’t mind, do you? Are you allergic?”

“Actually, I am,” Dean admits, “but, y’know, I can always grab some Benadryl or something-”

“Smithereen can stay with us.” Anna says. Castiel looks at his sister gratefully and she gives his arm a squeeze.

“Do you want me to stay?” Anna asks. “Help you unpack?” Castiel shakes his head. 

“No, go,” he says. “Get home to Charlie. I'll be fine.” Anna gives him a pointed look. “Really, Anna, I mean it. I'll take it easy, promise.”

“I can pick you up for the follow-up tomorrow,” Anna offers. “I'll text you when I'm leaving the house.” Castiel mumbles in agreement as Anna gives him a tight hug. Dean closes the door behind her as she leaves, turning back to face Castiel.

His expression is once again blank, as if expecting Dean to do or say something.

“Are you, uh, hungry?” he asks. 

“We ate before we left,” Castiel says, shaking his head. 

“Great… Uh, cool.” Dean isn't sure what he should say next. Even a subtle attempt to scent Castiel comes up with nothing. 

Not knowing what else to do, Dean moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge to retrieve a beer. He almost offers one to Castiel before catching himself and just grabbing the single bottle. 

“Well, um, I keep the cabinets pretty well stocked, so help yourself.” He catches the way Castiel flinches as he pops the cap in the corner of the kitchen counter. “I've got bread, juice… I think Sam left some of the organic peanut butter you need to keep in the fridge-”

“It's fine,” Castiel says quietly, “Charlie mentioned bringing by a few items in the morning.” 

“Cool, uh… if you want to watch TV, you're welcome to.” He waves an arm toward the flat screen mounted on the wall. “I have cable, HBO, gotta have that Game of-”

“I think I'm just going to go bed,” Castiel says. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Dean kicks himself mentally for not suggesting It first. “There are clean sheets on the bed… Fresh blankets. If you need more pillows-” 

“Thank you, Dean,” he cuts him off coolly, retreating down the short hallway to his room and closing the door behind him. 

There's a soft click of a lock on the door, and Dean tries to push back the instinctive feeling of offense at the gesture. He moves toward the couch, crashing onto the cushions and grabbing the remote in one swift move. 

“So this is how it is, then,” Dean sighs, taking a sip of his beer.

 

* * *

 

Rather than lie to Sam or come up with some convoluted story about how or why he has a pregnant, unmated omega living with him, Dean decides to cut through the bullshit and just come clean about the whole situation. 

Dean calls him at work a few days after Castiel moves in, explaining the whole situation as succinctly as he can. Sam is silent long enough that Dean thinks they might’ve gotten cut off, before finally saying something.

“Wait...You’re going to be a dad?” he asks in disbelief.

“No, Sam,” Dean sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to be a dad, it’s-”

“You just said this  _ Casteel _ guy is having your pup.”

“It’s not my- Well, I mean, technically I guess it is my pup,” Dean admits, starting to pace back and forth outside the front of his building, cell phone pressed to his ear, “but, I mean, it’s not like I’m going to raise the child. Castiel is a surrogate-”

“Yeah, I heard that,” Sam says. “Is this the same Charlie you work with?”

“Yeah, it is.”

“And you just gave the two of them your sperm?” Dean pulls a hand down his face in frustration.

“I didn’t- They went to a sperm bank in Denver-”

“When did you donate sperm?” Sam squawks. Dean takes a deep breath.

“Literally, years ago, Sam,” he says flatly. “But you’re missing the point, ok? Just google Dabb-Berens Syndrome. That will explain everything.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Sam mutters. 

“Look, I just wanted to let you know.” Dean says. “You might see Castiel or Charlie around if you stop by the apartment. I don’t want things to be weird.” Sam exhales loudly through his nose and Dean can practically picture Sam pulling a face.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you were getting a new roommate?” Sam asks. 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Because Sam,” he starts to explain. “I didn’t want you busting into my apartment-”

“I don’t do that.”

“You do,” Dean insists. “Look, if you came in and saw some unknown,  _ pregnant _ omega scenting at me, what the hell would you think?” There’s silence on the other end of the line.

“Good point,” Sam says. “He has to scent you? Really?”

“Yeah, It’s required by his doctor,” Dean offers reluctantly. “Seriously, please look up Dabb-Berens syndrome. It’s pretty important I do this.”

“I guess so,” Sam says. There’s another beat of silence between them. “You know this is really fucked up, right?” Dean can’t help blurting out a sudden laugh.

“You don’t even know, man,” he replies.

“So this Castiel guy?” Sam asks. “He’s a good roommate?” Dean runs his hand through his hair and checks his watch. 

“I don’t know, Sam. It’s only been a couple days. I’ll let you know in a month.” He starts toward the building’s entrance. “Look, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll talk to you later, ok?”

“Sure thing,” Sam says. “I have stuff to do, too. Need to start looking for a ‘World’s Greatest Uncle’ coffee mug.”

“Oh haha, Sam,” Dean snarks. He clicks the phone off and pushes through the door.

 

* * *

 

As far as roommates go, Dean could do a lot worse than Castiel. He’s  _ had _ worse roommates, in fact. Even Sam couldn’t measure up to the guy. 

Castiel doesn’t make a mess, he keeps to himself, labels all of his food clearly, and is in general a considerate, if quiet, guy. Dean wonders if it’s just his personality or maybe an omega thing. 

That’s not to say there aren’t wrinkles to be worked out, the biggest of which being the entire reason Castiel is there in the first place. 

The first couple days, Dean keeps expecting Castiel to bring up the scenting thing or maybe instigate it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he escapes into his bedroom with his laptop the minute Dean arrives home from work. 

Dean decides that he’ll take Castiel’s cue on this one; the guy has a better understanding of his body and the pup than Dean does. 

Dean wants to bring it up to Charlie, for the pup’s sake at least, but strangely, she seems to be MIA at work. Three days pass with Dean not seeing hide nor hair of her. When he does finally see her, unexpectedly passing her in the hall, she offers a mumbled “hi” and a tight smile before rushing past him. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d think she was avoiding him.

 

* * *

 

When Dean gets home that evening, he’s surprised to see Anna kneeling in front of the fridge, unloading paper bags full of groceries. Castiel leans awkwardly against the far counter, tea mug in hand and looking like he’s not allowed to help. 

“Oh, Hey Dean!” she says brightly. “I’ll be out of your way in a second. I just stopped by the store and grabbed a couple items.” Castiel catches his eye with an apologetic look and sip from the mug. 

“Uh, that’s fine,” Dean says as he shucks off his jacket and drops his bag by the door. “Take your time. I’m just going to get changed.” Dean moves down the hall, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his dress shirt as he does. 

He strips out of his work clothes and into a soft pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He can hear movement and voices echoing from the kitchen: Castiel’s low throaty one and Anna’s soft musical one. Dean’s not one to eavesdrop, but he can’t help catching the clipped tone to their voices, even if he can’t make out the words.

“I know!” Castiel whines out in frustration. Anna responds, her words soft and pleading. “I”m aware, I just…” Castiel voice drops down again, the only words Dean can make out are “embarrassing” and “Dean.”  

Dean huffs and quietly shuts the door, continuing to put away his work clothes. He takes his time in his room, checking emails on his phone and browsing facebook. When he comes out, Anna has left and Castiel is sitting on the couch, shuffling through Netflix. Dean clears his throat, and his head pops up in response.

“I, uh, hope you don’t mind, I was just-”

“Go ahead,” Dean says, gesturing to continue. He walks around the couch and plops down into the overstuffed chair at the side. Castiel continues to flip through the selections on the screen, finally settling on Psych. He glances over at Dean, as if asking if it's alright. Dean just shrugs and nods.

They watch for several minutes in silence. Dean tries to pay attention to the show, but his eyes keep drifting to Castiel, fidgeting and shifting nervously in his seat. Dean’s nostrils flare as he sniffs the air, Castiel's alluring scent causing goosebumps to rise along his arms. Dean swallows hard, thinking of baseball and England and any other unsexy thought in an effort to stop the knot forming in his boxers. The doctor had said Castiel's scent was abnormally strong, but here they are just sitting watching TV and Dean is ready to hump the couch. Maybe as time passes he’ll get used to it; at least that’s what he hopes will happen.

“Dean?” Dean nearly jumps out of his skin at the sound of his name. Castiel looks at him curiously, and for a split second, Dean wonders if he's reeking of horny alpha. He applied blockers this morning; maybe they'd worn off.

“Uh, yeah?,” he says, clearing his throat. 

“If you don't mind,” Castiel begins, looking down at his hands. “Dr. Shurely recommended… Uh, close contact for a few hours per days.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Dean says. He stands from the chair, waiting for Castiel to keep talking, but he just stares at the space ahead of him. “Do you… want me to…?” Dean trails off. Castiel blinks a few times, as if he forgot what they were just talking about.

“Um, yes, please,” He mumbles, scooting down the sofa and making room. Dean moves to the couch, sitting down next to him. He hesitates for a moment before inching closer, his arm pressed against Castiel’s. 

Castiel flinches at the touch, but doesn’t move. He sits stiff as a board, watching the TV, but the way his eyes don’t seem to lock on anything in particular tells Dean he’s not really paying attention. 

Dean takes the initiative and loops his arm out from beneath, pulling it back and draping it over the edge of the couch. He makes sure to provide enough room so he’s not closing Castiel in if he  doesn’t want it, but can still draw closer if he does.

Castiel, though, stays where he is, his frame eventually relaxing as he grows distracted by the show. 

They sit together, side by side, both pretending to watch the screen.The scent of pup and omega tickles at Dean’s nose, spicy and wonderful, but it’s impossible to ignore the sour milk undertone of discomfort. Clearly, Castiel is only doing this out of obligation. So is he, Dean reminds himself, but even he knows that’s not entirely true. Part of him wants to pull Castiel under his arm, nose pressed to Dean’s neck like they were in the hospital, and it’s an entirely selfish want. Dean pushes past the feeling of guilt, straightening up and regaining his composure. He will not be  _ that  _ kind of alpha.

After the third episode, Dean’s arm begins to go numb and he stands up, stretching out his shoulder and going for another beer. 

“I think I’ll go to bed,” Castiel says, standing up. Dean steps back into the living room, his face pinching in concern. 

“Do we need to do this some more?” he wags a finger between his chest and the couch, but Castiel shakes his head.

“I don’t think so,” he says, eyes shifting to the ground. “That should be enough.” A furrow forms above Dean’s eyes as he remembers Dr. Shurley saying something about six hours per day. He starts to ask about it, but Castiel escapes down the hall with a mumbled good night. Once again, the door closes between them. 

Dean slumps back into the overstuffed chair with a grunt. He picks up the remote, Hitting the “Continue” button hovering over the frozen screen. The screen comes to life and Dean finds himself melting into the soft upholstery of the chair until his eyes slip closed, rocked to sleep by the hum of voices coming from the TV and the rich omega scent now filling the apartment.

 

* * *

 

While Castiel is beginning to warm up to Dean, if slowly, the same can not be said for his sister in law.

Dean’s not imagining things, Charlie is definitely ignoring him. Normally, she stops by his office two to three times per day, just to talk or gossip about one of their co-workers. Now though, since Castiel moved in, he’s barely seen hide nor hare of her. When he has seen her, she barely meets his eye or responds with a mumbled hello and moves past him. She is definitely not her same bubbly self, and Dean has no doubts that it has something to do with him.

He decides to confront her on the matter. It takes almost a week to make it happen. Charlie is like a zen master of avoidance, always “just ducked out” every time he stops by her office. Dean finally manages to find her in the third floor breakroom, after stealthily waiting for her for close to 20 minutes. 

“Did I do something to piss you off?” Dean meant to be more subtle in his approach, but a split second before he started talking, that plan went out the window. Charlie stares up at him wide-eyed, her tuna-on-wheat still held to her mouth. She sets it down slowly, looking at Dean like he suddenly grew a penis in the middle of his forehead.

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“You’re avoiding me,” Dean says. “I haven’t talked to you in weeks. I don’t think you’ve said more than ‘hi’ to me-” Charlie cuts him off with a snort.

“I’m busy, Dean,” she says, starting to wrap up her uneaten sandwich. “I’ve been trying to map every computer on the 5th floor. It’s all hands on deck for the IT department and I can’t be distracted.” She stands from the table, storing away the rest of her lunch in her bag. Dean’s eyes narrow; he’s not going to let this continue.

“Bullshit! You can map a printer in your sleep,” he spits out. “And when our entire software network went down, you still went out of your way to bring me a coffee.” Charlie glances away, caught in her lie.

“So what is it then?” Dean asks. “Did I say something?”

“No.”

“Do something?”

“No, Dean, look-”

“Are you angry at me?”

“Yes!” Charlie finally shouts. Dean stumbles back at the outburst. “Yes, I’m angry.”

“Why? What happened?” Dean asks. “Tell me, please.” Charlie groans and drags  her hands down her face.

“It’s this thing with Castiel-”

“Did… Did Castiel say I did something?” Dean asks, eyes widening a little in fear. Could he have offended Castiel without realizing it.

“No,” Charlie says, her brows drawing together. “Why? Did you do something to Castiel?”

“No, no!” Dean shakes his head emphatically. “Charlie, what’s wrong?” Charlie drops back down into the chair, her head falling into her hands.

“I’m the alpha, ok?” she mutters. She looks at Dean, her eyes quickly filling with tears. “I’m supposed to be my pup’s alpha, but apparently it doesn’t need me...” It takes a second for Dean to comprehend what she is saying.

“Charlie, is this about the hosp-”

“ _ I didn’t matter _ ,” she snaps out. “Oh,  _ you _ mattered because you’re the bio-alpha, but me… Castiel was struggling and my pup was dying and… and I was useless.”

“That’s not true,” Dean says, slowly lowering into the chair beside her. A tear drips down over her cheek and she pushes it away.

“And this is just the beginning.” The words spill out of her. “I keep reading these post on babycenter.com about these other parents who used surrogates. Pups who hate their parents, pups who won’t eat because they want their surrogate, growing up and never being able to bond with a pup because they’re not the bio-alpha. What if she comes out and she just knows I’m not her real alpha and or… she hates me?”

“Charlie, your baby will love you-”

“But what if she doesn’t!” she squawks. “She didn’t need me! My pup is already rejecting me and she hasn’t even been born yet. ” Charlie sniffs and wipes away another tear. Dean hesitantly places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, relaxing when she doesn’t flinch away.

“It’s like…I’m constantly bombarded with everything an alpha should be and all the ways I fail at it because I’m female and I can’t…” she hesitates and and sighs. “Just add this to the pile, I guess.” Dean’s nostrils flare. Charlie doesn’t deserve to feel like this because of her gender; no one does.

“Have I ever told you about my dad?” he asks.

“The guy with the trucker hat and beard on your phone screen, right?” Dean shakes his head.

“No, no, that’s my uncle, but I’ll talk about him, too,” Dean continues. “My dad, he’s my alpha parent, like biologically and everything.”

“Ok?”  Charlie says, clearly uncertain of where Dean’s going with this.

“My mom died when I was a kid and my dad kinda went off the rails,” he explains. “He just sort of gave up, wouldn’t stay in one place for too long, wandered around.”

“He went rogue?” Charlie raises an eyebrow.

“Well, that’s a little old-fashioned, but yeah,” Dean says. “And this would be ok if he were on his own, y’know, but it’s not so great when you have a couple kids in tow. Hell, Sam wasn’t even out of diapers.” Charlie’s frame starts to untense as she listens. Dean takes a breath and continues.

“When I was little, I thought it was great. Driving across the country and camping out in the back of the car, but now looking back on it… It wasn’t a good place for us. I mean, I should’ve been in school and I was watching my little brother.”

“How old were you?” 

“Started when I was four.” Dean says. “Anyway, eventually, my dad started leaving us places,  sometimes for a day, or a week, a month or more even.”

“What do you mean ‘Leaving you?’” she asks.

“Motels, sometimes with people he knew, or barely knew.” Charlie’s eyes widen and a frown pulls at her mouth, distressed by this revelation.  Dean shakes his head, brushing away some bad memory. “Eventually, though, we ended up with my Uncle Bobby, uh, the beard guy. Friend of the family, not even our real uncle, but let me tell you this.” Dean leans in close before speaking.

“I have a bond with my Uncle almost as much as I have with Sam. He is more of an alpha parent to me than my dad ever was, and it has nothing to do with biology or scent or anything.” Charlie’s face softens a little and Dean can see the beginnings of a smile at her mouth.

“One thing Bobby always says is ‘family don’t end with blood’ and I don’t think for one damn second it starts with it either.” Dean squeezes her arm in reassurance. “You already love the Hell out of that pup-”

“I really do,” Charlie says with a teary laugh. 

“-And that’s a helluva head start over some parents, believe me.” Charlie reaches up and pats Dean’s hand on her arm, mumbling a thank you.  “Also, stop reading those stupid baby sites.” That earns a loud, full-body laugh from Charlie.

“You sound like Anna.”

“Well, your mate has it right.” They stand from the table at the same time and Dean finds himself instantly enveloped in a crushing hug.

“Thank you, Dean,” Charlie mumbles into this shirt. She pulls away, her eyes still wet but a sincere smile on her face now. “I’m sorry, I’ve been acting kind of nuts, it’s just we’ve been trying for so long…” Charlie looks down at  her hands awkwardly.

“We’ve lost three,” she admits. “And Anna can’t… It’s why we asked Castiel. So, Thank you for doing what you’re doing, letting him move in and all that. It really means more to us than you can imagine.”  Dean doesn’t know what to say, so he pulls her into another hug, cradling the back of her head with his hand. 

Charlie pulls back first, fanning the flush away from her face. “Now, I really do need to finish my lunch,” she says. “But I’ll stop by your office this afternoon?” Dean smiles and nods, leaving Charlie in the break room and returning to his desk. 

The impact of their conversation doesn’t truly hit him until he’s sitting down. He slowly lowers down until his forehead is flush with the desk.

As if this situation wasn’t complicated enough.

 


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel blinks slowly, his eyes unfocusing on his laptop screen. The half-drawn image in front of him seems to shift and abstract, even though he knows his stylus isn't anywhere near the tablet.

Castiel yawns widely, wishing he could indulge in a second cup of coffee. Anna would murder him if she found out, though. It was hard enough convincing her to allow his single cup of coffee in the morning.

“150 mg or less a day Castiel,” he murmurs, imitating her. He frowns at the screen, irritated with his lack of progress so far on the design. He wants to throw his stylus across the room, but the expense of a new one won't let him. Instead, he sets it gently down next to his tablet, saves the current project he's working on and shuts his laptop. 

It's a good thing he's ahead on all of his current projects, or he'd be screwed. Freelance illustration allowed him a lot more freedom than a corporate setting had, but it also didn’t provide anyone to pick up the slack either. The nausea of the first trimester had been bad enough, but the second trimester brought a growing stomach and a shrinking bladder in addition to a strange sort of nervous energy. It makes sitting still impossible and buckling down to work a lost cause.

Castiel rises to his feet and stretches his arms above his head. Maybe if he does a little vinyasa, he’ll be a little less restless.

Castiel moves to his room, sorting through his still-unpacked suitcase and pulling out a pair of yoga pants. He catches sight of himself in the mirror, considering his reflection, and then strips off his t-shirt. His once flat stomach looks like he's smuggling a honeydew. He drags his hand over it, both proud and self-conscious of it, before returning to the living room.

Castiel is in warrior pose when Dean returns home. He catches a whiff of the alpha’s rich scent a few seconds before he opens the door.

“Oh hey, Castiel you’re-” Dean pauses mid sentence. Castiel turns around, about to ask what's wrong, when he notices Dean just staring at him. Or, more specifically, staring at his stomach. Castiel snatches his shirt off the couch and pulls it back on as Dean mumbles an apology.

“Uh, should you be doing that?” Dean asks as he sets his bag and jacket down on one of the dining area chairs. “That yoga stuff? You're supposed to be resting, right?” Castiel resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's not about to be dictated to by an alpha whom he barely knows. 

“It's not literal ‘bed rest,’” he says. “Only reduced activity, no exertion.” Dean nods and doesn't say anything else as he retreats to the bedroom. 

Castiel settles on the living room floor, crossing his legs in front of him and letting his open palms rest on his knees. He closes his eye and tries to clear his mind, but today is more difficult than usual. He hears Dean emerge from his room and move into the kitchen. Dean, to his credit, tries to keep his noise low, judging by the way he gently closes the cabinet doors, but it's enough to distract Castiel from his meditation. 

That and his scent.

Castiel isn't sure when he started walking toward the kitchen, but he hovers in the doorway, mesmerized by the way Dean’s hands fly across the cutting board as he dices onions.

“Hey, Castiel, do you think you’ll want- Gah!” Dean almost jumps out of his skin when he finally notices him barely six feet from him.

“Jesus!” Dean clutches at his chest with one hand. “Never sneak up on someone holding a knife.”

“I apologize,” he mumbles. “I’ll stay out of your way.”

Dean shakes his head. “You don't have to go,” he says. “I was just about to ask if you'd like dinner as well. I'm making a meatloaf.”

Castiel smiles gratefully and accepts. He takes another step into the kitchen, continuing to watch Dean prep ingredients.

“How was your day?” Castiel asks, at a loss of what else to say.

Dean sighs strangely. “It was fine.” Dean bites at his lip, hesitating. “I had a talk with Charlie today.” Castiel looks at Dean curiously. He was under the impression that he and Charlie spoke everyday.

“She was venting to me, how she's scared she's going to be a bad alpha or that this,” he swings his finger between the two of them. “will mean she won't bond as the baby’s alpha.”

“Christ,” Castiel mutters. Charlie has been both Anna’s and his rock through all of this. Anna hasn't once mentioned her concerns. 

“I guess she's been stressed out, reading too many of those damn baby websites,” Dean continues. He throws a diced onion into a sizzling pan of oil and turns to face Castiel.  “I had no idea she and Anna have been trying for a pup for so long. Three times. That's…” He trails off and shakes his head. 

“Five, actually,” Castiel says. Dean’s brows fly up in surprise. “There were a few times where Anna lost it before they even realized they were pupped. She felt it better not to tell Charlie.”

“But she told you?”

Castiel shrugs. “Anna and I don't have secrets.”

“Except for me.” Dean catches his eye. “You never told her about me.” He turns back to the stove to add more ingredients to the pan. Castiel blinks oddly at the this revelation.

“That was different,” Castiel argues, finding his bearings.

“Oh?”

“I knew…” Castiel shakes his head and sighs. “I knew that the alpha rejection thing was a possibility, I just… I just didn't want to worry them more.” Castiel expects an argument or some sort of reprimand, but Dean just nods, mumbling “I get it” under his breath. Castiel isn't sure he does, but he appreciates Dean pretending.

“This is their rainbow baby,” Castiel mumbles, his hand resting on his stomach. Dean looks back at him, raising a questioning brow. “A baby born after… after a loss. Rainbow after a storm, that kind of thing. It’s kind of cheesy-”

“Not at all,” Dean says. He offers Castiel a warm smiles and turns back to the stove. A lull falls between them, but Castiel stays in the kitchen, watching Dean cook. Occasionally, Dean asks him to pass him a bottle from the spice rack or grab him something from the fridge. 

After a few minutes, Castiel's back starts to ache and he steps out of the kitchen (it must be his imagination, but he swears he feels Dean’s eyes follow him as he does). Rather than return to the living room and his yoga mat, Castiel sits back down at the dining table and opens his laptop. He picks up his stylus and sets his tablet in front of him, getting back to work. Before long Dean emerges from the kitchen, wordlessly setting a plate of food, hot and savory, next to him.

“Uh, thank you, Dean,” he says, lifting a tentative forkful and blowing on it. Dean just smiles and nods as he plops down into the chair kitty-corner to him and digs into his own food.

 

* * *

 

Dean sits in his living room on an early Friday evening. Down the hall, he hears the shower rasp and Castiel’s low voice echoing off the tile in some off-key rendition of an 80s song.

Dean smiles to himself. After almost a month, they’ve finally found a rhythm as roommates. Castiel seems to have let go of much of his initial discomfort around Dean, spending more time in the shared spaces of the apartment rather than inside his bedroom.  he's home. 

Dean finds himself cooking more, too, enjoying the feeling of Castiel standing opposite him in the kitchen, light conversation passing between them. He assume it's all part of Castiel getting the alpha contact he needs, but it doesn't mean Dean can't enjoy it. It's intoxicating, the scent of pregnant omega mixed with the aromas or cooking food and home. Just being surrounded by it brings Dean back to memories of his childhood and his mother. 

There’s a strange warmth in his stomach at the feeling of “providing” for the omega. Dean has always told Sam he has no need for the domestic life like what he and Jessica have, but being around Castiel this way, he can understand the appeal.

Dean doesn't even realize the shower has shut off until the bathroom door opens and Castiel steps out into the hall in a wave of muggy, sweet smelling air. Dean watches him out of the corner of his eye, noticing the way droplets of water cling to his thick dark hair and drip down the back of his neck. Castiel wears his ever present yoga pants and, as he moves in front of Dean to take the seat beside him, Dean can't stop his eyes from lingering on Castiel’s surprisingly still-pert ass. 

He feels like a creep, but c’mon! He's still an alpha.

If Castiel notices Dean’s reaction or behavior, he doesn't say anything, simply settling down next to him on the sofa. 

“HGTV?” Castiel asks, glancing at Dean out of the corner of his eye. 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean mumbles, still hyper aware of Castiel’s warmth next to him. “‘House Hunters’ is on, but I can change it-” 

“It's fine,” Castiel says, settling into the cushion. They sit there for several minutes, watching the pair of mates argue over whether or not they should have an ensuite bathroom. 

Dean tries to focus, but Castiel keeps fidgeting, shifting in his seat and pressing himself closer to Dean (or is it his imagination?).

“You ok?” he asks, slyly inching back from Castiel. He’s trying hard not to pop a knot, but with Castiel wiggling up next to him, it's difficult.

“Yeah, I'm just...” Castiel shifts again, pressing up against Dean’s arm, “just having a hard time getting comfortable.” He grimaces and pushes a hand into his side. “Pup keeps kicking me in the ribs.” 

His hand lands on the swell of his stomach, moving in circles over it. Dean’s eyes drift toward the movement and his fingers twitch. It would be so simple to just reach out and touch it, feel the movement of the pup. 

Dean repeatedly tells himself he's just fascinated by omega pregnancy and the process that's happening, but even he doesn't believe his excuse. He scoots incrementally farther away as a wave of guilt washes over him. This is Charlie’s pup, he reminds himself. Charlie and Anna’s.  _ You're not the alpha _ .

“Dean?” Dean’s head jerks up to see Castiel staring at him oddly, his brows drawn together. The air around them is tinged with omega anxiety and Dean is gripped with mild panic that he overstepped a boundary in some way.

“Castiel, I want to-”

“Would you be able to drive me to my hypno birth class tomorrow?” 

Dean’s face pinches together in concern. “What?”

“I was wondering if you might be able to drive me to my hypno birth class,” Castiel explains. “I go every other Saturday-”

“Wait, wait, back up… What’s  _ hypnobirth?” _ Dean finds himself truly caught off guard by this term. 

“It's breathing exercises and pain control techniques that are supposed to help during labor,” Castiel explains. 

“Lamaze?” Dean asks. The only reason he even knows that word is thanks to TV and movies and all he knows from that is it involves heavy breathing and the pregnant character screaming at their mate. 

“Kind of. More mental conditioning,” Castiel continues. “As I was saying, though, Anna was supposed to take me but their window guy can only come by the house tomorrow morning and Charlie is in Kansas City all weekend at this… LARPing event or something. I mean, if you're busy, I understand. I can always get an Uber or-”

“Castiel, it's fine,” Dean says, waving off the rest of his explanation. “Of course I can take you. No problem.” If Castiel needs a lift to his weird trance class, it's the least he can do. Castiel’s entire face brightens and Dean can't help smiling back. 

“Besides,” Dean adds, “if you took an Uber and something happened to you, I wouldn't have a chance to never forgive myself before Charlie murdered me.” Castiel’s brow furrows in offense, but then quickly relaxes; he shrugs. 

“Possibly,” he says, “although you've never seen Anna angry.” Dean gives a soft snort and they both turn back toward the TV.

 

* * *

 

Dean pulls up outside the building Castiel directed him to.

“This the place?” Dean asks, a bit perplexed. He had been expecting maybe a yoga studio or something a bit more “crunchy.” Instead, They were parked in front of what looked like a dental office in a strip mall. 

“Yes,” Castiel says as he unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door. Dean switches off the engine.

“Uh, you don't have to stay,” Castiel says, noticing Dean unbuckling his own safety belt. Dean raises an eyebrow. “I just mean, if you have something else to do or something. You don't have to come in, you can just…” he trails off. It almost sounds like an embarrassed teenager brushing off their parent from the mall, but it's clear from Castiel’s diffident expression that he doesn't want to inconvenience Dean. 

“Naw, I can wait for you,” Dean says. “and might as well wait inside. They’ve got wifi in there?” Dean steps out of the car and follows Castiel, yoga mat under his arm, into the office.

As soon as they step inside, A wall of pregnant omega scent nearly bowls Dean over. He wrinkles his nose, staying close to Castiel in hopes of catching a whiff of his familiar scent. The floor is littered with about a dozen omegas and a few betas, all in different stages of pregnancy, as well as their mates. A slender, dark haired omega female floats around the room, greeting each attendee. 

“Castiel!” she says brightly as she spots them, quickly crossing the room and wrapping him up in a hug.

“Hi, Lisa,” Castiel says with a warm smile. Dean notices the way he tenses under the hug.

“It’s wonderful to see you again.” She turns to Dean, extending a hand. “I'm Lisa. You must be the proud alpha.” Dean’s eyes widen and Castiel launches into a hurried protest

“No, no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “He's not… “

“It’s kind of complicated,” Dean says at the same time.

“Dean’s, uh, my-”

“Roommate,” Dean supplies, catching Castiel’s eye. Lisa tilts her head to the side oddly.

“I'm sorry, I didn't realize,” she says. “I’ve only met Anna when she and Castiel have attended. I assumed you were her mate.” She gives an apologetic shrugs and encourages them both into the space. “Well, feel free to take a seat. We’ll be starting shortly.”

“Oh, Dean wasn't going to participate.” Castiel offers.

“I'm just the chauffeur,” Dean begs off. Lisa gives a perturbed frown and sighs as Castiel finds a spot near the center of the room and unrolls his mat. Dean finds a chair to the side and opens up Facebook, flipping through it as Lisa continues to mingle with the participants. 

Sam has dragged Dean to a handful of yoga classes and the hypnobirth class definitely has a similar vibe. He can’t recall any of the yoga classes ever mentioning anything about. “envisioning opening your birth canal” though.

Between the soft music, Lisa slow, soothing words, and the heady scent of pregnant omega (Castiel’s most prominent), Dean finds himself dozing off about thirty minutes in. 

“Alright, partners, we’re going to work on our massage techniques,” Lisa’s voice rises and Dean is roused by a tug on his arm. Lisa smiles down at him as she pulls him from the chair.

“Go help your partner,” she says in an encouraging whisper. Dean starts to say something, but she pushes him lightly in Castiel’s direction. Castiel watches Dean, his brows knitting together. Dean just shrugs as he sits down behind him, mimicking the positions of the other alphas in the room.

“Sorry,” he mumbles to Castiel.

“It's fine,” he replies, refocusing his attention on Lisa, who’s begun talking again.

“Now, partners. I want you to remember that, even though you are not the ones in labor, you are vital to the birthing process.” Lisa says, her fingers tented together as she walks around the room. “Your presence and scent should in itself be part of their relaxation and bring them to the state of mind they need to be in.” Dean wants to crack a joke about pushing out a 8 lb screaming infant is probably the least relaxing thing on earth, but when he glances  over at Castiel, the other man seems hyper focused on Lisa’s words. 

“Now, I want you to take your position in front of your partners.” Dean is about to ask what he needs to do, but Castel scoots back into him, almost pushing Dean’s knees to the side so there is room in between for him. 

“Just play along,” Castiel murmurs under his breath.

“What should I do?” Dean whispers. Castiel tilts his chin toward Lisa, indicating he should listen. 

“We’re going to work on relaxation massage,” she says. “I want you to start with the head. With light pressure, I want you to run your hands down their head. Start at the crown and move toward the nape of their neck.” Dean follows the direction, clumsily at first. He watches other alpha’s out of the corner of his eye, copying their movement and pace. He steals a glance at Castiel’s face. He looks relaxed, his eyes half-closed and his shoulders slack.

Dean continues his movements, noticing the softness of Castiel’s hair. His thumbs brush the fine, short hairs at the back of his neck as he drags his hands toward it. Castiel’s shoulders rise and fall evenly with each breath, his form slumping minutely against Dean. 

Lisa pads over toward them after a minute, pressing her fingers down over Dean’s.

“Don't be afraid to apply a little more pressure,” she says. “You don't want to dig your fingers in too much, but you want more than a light touch.” Dean nods and repeats her movements. Castiel exhales a happy sigh, before his breath evens out again.

They continue this way for several minutes, Dean isn't sure how long, moving from the head down the neck to the shoulders and the back. Castiel remains upright, his eyes still closed, but is easily pliant the entire time. Dean loses track of everything around him save for Castiel and the rise and fall of his body. Dean notices after a while that he's repeating Lisa's words, reminding him to breath in, breath up and then let it out through his center. 

Then, it's over. 

Lisa’s words trail off and Dean is almost startled at the abrupt silence.

“Wonderful job today, everyone,” Lisa says, squeezing her hands together in front of her. She goes from couple to couple, checking in. Dean helps Castiel to his feet and Lisa gives them each an arm squeeze as she passes. 

Dean glances around dumbly, expecting something more to happen, but Castiel just tugs on his sleeve.

“Should we go?” he asks. Dean nods and follows him close behind and out the door.

* * *

 

“Thank you,” Castiel says on the drive back. “For coming with me today.” 

Dean shrugs and nods. “Not a problem, Cas.” He means it, too. Despite his ribs to Sam about his habits of yoga and meditation, Dean was surprised how refreshed he felt afterward. Maybe there was something to this.

“I mean it,” Castiel says. “I really appreciate it. I haven't been able to connect with this hypnobirth thing before.” Dean flashes a quizzical look.

“Really?”

Castiel shakes his head in frustration. “Anna wants me to do it. She thinks natural childbirth will be healthier for the baby.” Dean’s expression pinches together in horror.

“What about what's healthy for you?” Castiel shrugs nonchalantly.

“Natural childbirth isn't unhealthy, Dean,” he says. “People have been doing it for thousands of years. It's just painful.”

“Still though,” Dean mutters. “That's a lot of pain.” They drive in silence for another few blocks before Dean pipes up again.

“You really would do anything for Anna, wouldn't you?”

“Anything,” Castiel says with absolute resolution. “She's one of the only family I have left and definitely the one I am closest to.”

“And you'd really go through childbirth, no drugs, just because she asked?” Castiel shrugs. 

“I'll give it my best effort,” he says. “If the pain becomes too much, I'm sure Anna would be the first person running for a doctor, but I'll make an honest effort.”

“And this hypnobirth thing is supposed to help with the pain?”

“It's supposed to work you into a meditative state so you're not really aware of the pain,” he explains. “This class was the first time I felt confident I could do that.”

“And you think I helped?” Dean glances over at him, hoping his smile doesn't give away the swell of pride he feels in his chest. 

Castiel smiles back. “Your presence didn't hurt,” he says, a bit coyly. “Do you think you'd be able to come with me next time?” Dean resists the urge to reach out and take Castiel's hand in his.

“Yeah, I can do that,” he offers, trying to seem at ease. They drive on, Dean inhaling deeply as the scent of content omega seeps into every inch of the Impala.

 

* * *

 

Dean thinks he's imagining it at first, but following that first hypnobirth class, it feels like there is more contact between Castiel and himself. It's little things, like the way Castiel passes him in the hallway, not even reacting as their shoulders brush or the buzz of contact as Castiel passes him a bottle from the spice rack when he’s cooking. By the end of the day, Dean swears he can scent Cas all over him and he wonders if others can as well.

He can't deny that the thought has a possessive growl rumbling in his throat as well as a tightness in his jeans. He decides not to ask Castiel about it, though. If it's accidental, saying something might just cause Castiel embarrassment. If it's on purpose… Well, it's Castiel’s business, right?

It’s not until a couple weeks later when Castiel and Dean are sitting in the living room, side by side, that Castiel scoots closer and pulls up Dean’s arm, draping it over his shoulder.

“Don’t make it weird,” he murmurs, eyes not leaving the TV screen as he nestles under Dean’s arms.

That’s answer enough, Dean supposes.

 

* * *

 

 

Dean picks up around the living room, tossing shed overshirts and socks haphazardly into his bedroom. He knows he doesn’t have to pick up too much with Sam coming over, but it’d be nice to prove to his brother he hasn’t fallen into squalor since he moved  out. 

Dean notices that he’s strangely thrilled to be seeing Sam. It’s been almost a month since they’ve seen each other, busy as Sam is with moving and Law School. Until a couple months ago, the brothers were a near-constant presence in each other’s lives. Dean still calls pretty regularly and they text at random times throughout the day, but it’s an odd feeling not having Sam in the next room over. 

Dean looks down the hallway and glances at the closed bedroom door where Cas naps. He wonders if he should wake him up, maybe introduce him to Sam, but then pushes the idea away. It would feel vaguely creepy, almost like he’s trying to “show off” the omega to his brother (which, in the animal recesses of his mind, Dean can admit he  _ really wants to do _ )

Dean glances at the clock on the stove, noticing that Sam should be here in about a half hour; he has time for a shower. he sheds his clothes on his bedroom floor, walking proudly naked into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. 

The spray of the shower echoes off the walls, drowning out all noise except for Dean’s rough rendition of “Heat of the Moment.” He takes his time, enjoying the warm water pressure and indulging in the “repeat” portion of “lather rinse repeat.” He finishes and shuts off the tap, toweling himself off. The bathroom is damp and muggy from the steam, still, something tickles at Dean’s nose. He sniffs, the smell of his body wash almost cloying as he tries to work through it. Something isn’t right. 

As soon as he smells it, his world tilts on its side. 

Dean’s heard stories about alphas “seeing red” when their omega or their mate is in distress but he’s always assumed it was a euphemism, like “blowing your top” or “green with envy”. All it takes is the scent of distress mixed with Castiel’s own pregnancy scent and his vision goes scarlett, like he’s looking at the world through a waterfall of blood. 

Dean practically rips the bathroom door from the hinges, ready to attack with a towel barely hanging onto his hips, but abruptly freezes in the hallway

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Sam repeats over and over, hands up defensively, standing in the doorway. “I should’ve thought…” The blast of cool air has Dean gathering his senses and self-consciously tightening the towel around him. He shakes his head to clear his vision as something heavy swings a few feet in front of him.

Castiel’s eyes are wild as he brandishes a frying pan at Sam. “Who are you?” he screams. 

Dean finds his bearings and steps to Castiel’s side. He flinches when Dean touches his shoulder but doesn’t attack. Dean gently places a hand on his outstretched arm, lowering it as he scoops an arm around him and presses Castiel’s face into his neck.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Dean mumbles. His head whips around to Sam “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Sam’s jaw hangs open limply and no sound comes out.  He looks from Dean to the door. “I knocked and… no one answered.”

“So you just barged in?!” Dean growls.

“I have my key.” He holds up the key to show him. “I thought maybe you weren’t home. I …  completely forgot you had the omega living-”

“Castiel,” Dean spits out, his anger still flaring. 

“-Castiel living here,” Sam continues. “Really, I am…  _ so sorry _ . I didn’t even realize... ” He trails off, his expression as broken as if he’d stepped on a dog’s paw. Castiel’s breath grows more even and relaxed, but the pan is still clenched in his hand. Dean looks between them, Sam’s large sad eyes looking so apologetic. 

He rubs a hand over Castiel’s back as he guides him to the living room. Castiel nods when Dean offers to get him a glass of orange juice, his hand rubbing circles over his belly. Dean gets up and moves to the kitchen, catching Sam’s eyes and signaling for him to follow. 

He opens the fridge and starts to fill a glass of juice. Words tumble out of Sam’s mouth in a quiet hiss.

“Dean, I am so sorry. I really thought you weren’t home. The living room was completely empty and then Castiel comes out of the room- ”

“What the hell, Sam?” Dean mutters. “You can’t just come barging into my place. I don’t care  if you have a key! Text, call, c’mon!” Sam shakes his head and gives a dismal shrug. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam says. 

“You were really fucking early, too!” 

“Yeah,” Sam sighs. “I promised Jess I’d take her out tonight and I didn’t want to cut into our time.” Dean’s fingers shake from the adrenaline and the pounding of alpha rage still beats behind his eyes. He gives a frustrated sigh and drags a hand over his face. He takes a long deep breath. If they were alone, Dean would probably give in to the urge to tear Sam a new one, but he can still smell Cas’ anxiety in the air. The last thing they need here is an aggressive alpha.

“Just… Just don’t do it again,” Dean says, jaw tight. He looks up at his brother. It’s clear from the slump of his massive shoulders and the curdled milk tang to his scent that Sam won’t. Dean waves his hand dismissively. He could argue further, but instead he turns on his heel and walks into the living room, sitting down next to Castiel and placing the glass of juice in his shaking palm. 

Dean places an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in so that his nose hovers right over his collarbone. Castiel takes slow sips of the juice between deep inhales of Dean’s neck.

Sam stands in the doorway of the kitchen awkwardly, watching them. His expression is odd, somewhere between sympathetic and confused. Castiel shifts in Dean’s hold, pulling back. 

“Sam, I’d…” He clears his throat. “I’d like to extend my apology.” Sam’s jaw hangs open and his eyes go large. 

“Oh my God, no, no, no, that was all my fault-”

“Really, Cas, this is on Sam-” Dean says at the same time, but Castiel holds up a hand, silencing both of them . 

“No, no, I should’ve realized.” He says. “It’s clear you are Dean’s brother. He’s mentioned you multiple times, there are photos of you everywhere,” he waves a hand around the room, dotted with framed photos, “and intruders don’t usually use house keys.” He takes a sip of the juice and gives a wan smile.

Dean looks at him, his eyes narrowing in confusion. “Castiel, really your reaction was-”

“An overreaction,” Castiel finishes. He looks up at Sam. “My… fight-or-flight response is… a little haywire.” His eyes dart towards his stomach, then he turns to Dean. “Please don’t tell Anna or Charlie; they will say I was being reckless.”

“It’s completely understandable,” Sam offers. “Really, I get it. An omega protecting their home and… pup.” Dean and Castiel both notice his hesitation on the last word.

“Thank you,” Castiel says, “but I still needed to behave more reasonably.”

“Pretty ingenious with the pan, though,” Dean says. Castiel smiles as he picks up the small cast iron pan, spinning it in one hand and nodding. Dean looks at the door where Sam dropped the case of beer, noting with some relief that they landed on the carpet instead of the linoleum. 

“I’ll get them,” Sam says, moving to gather up the bottles.

“Well, as long as you’re here,” Dean says as he grabs a bottle opener off the counter. “They might be a little foamy.” Sam shrugs, uncapping his beer and trying unsuccessfully to catch the spout of foam off the top, much to both Castiel and Dean’s amusement. Sam wipes at his face and moves into one of the overstuffed chairs near the TV, Dean following.

“So, Sam,” Castiel begins, affecting a pleasant smile. “Dean tells me you’re going to law school…”

 

* * *

 

Sam stays for just over an hour before a text from his girlfriend, reminding him of a dinner date, sends him home. Castiel watches from the sofa as Dean bids his brother goodbye.

“He’s nice, your brother.” Castiel rises from the couch, arching his back in a stretch and moving to the kitchen to deposit his juice glass in the sink. Dean nods.

“Yeah, he’s a good kid.” Dean nods. There’s a beat and Castiel catches a troubled look on Dean’s face. “I know he feels awful about earlier-” Castiel smiles and shakes his head.

“Please,” he says. “As if my behavior has been any better.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Oh, c’mon,” he says. “You were completely within your right. As far as you knew, Sam was an intruder. You were working on instinct.”

“I meant when I first moved in.” Castiel looks up at him seriously. “I really should apologize for the way I acted.” Dean shakes his head again.

“Cas, I get it.” he says.

“No, I was inexcusably rude.” he flops back on the couch and tips up his head, staring at the ceiling. “I was angry for having to leave Denver, I was angry that my… my body betrayed me-”

“Betrayed?”

“The alpha rejection,” Castiel sighs. “I knew it was a possibility with surrogacy, we took measures against it, I… I was mad at myself for almost failing Anna and Charlie and I took my frustration with the situation out on you.”

“Cas,” Dean says carefully, still not understanding why he’s upset. “No one would blame you for any of this. It’s not like you had control.” Castiel looks at him with a pained gaze.

“But you were hurting too, weren’t you?” Dean doesn’t answer, but his expression must give him away. “You were feeling just as awful as I was and you had no idea and I… I could’ve at least said something and I didn’t.” Castiel’s shoulders slump forward and he looks down at his hands, fiddling with a piece of thread on his maternity shirt.

“I just keep thinking about all the ways this could’ve all gone wrong and… what if you’d never come to the hospital or-” Dean moves forward wrapping his arms around Castiel and pulling him in. The hug is awkward,  Dean trying to make room for his considerable bump between them. Castiel tenses for a second before relaxing against Dean’s shoulder, taking a deep breath of his alpha musk.

“Really, Cas, it’s ok,” he says with a slight chuckle in his voice. “I mean it, I’m not holding a grudge. You’re going to worry yourself sick.” Castiel wants to argue more, but just breathing in the scent of Dean makes every argument disappear. 

They stand there for several minutes, Castiel leaning into Dean as he rubs a soothing palm over his back. The only thing that separates them is a protesting growl from Castiel’s stomach.

“Guess it’s time for dinner,” Dean says with a grin. “I’m too tired to cook. You ok with pizza?” Castiel looks up at Dean. He doesn’t deserve this kindness; for fuck’s sake, he nearly bludgeoned his brother with a frying pan. Castiel tamps his anxiety back down and gives Dean a nod. 

“That sounds fine,” he says. Dean smiles and heads to grab the pizza coupons off the fridge. Castiel settles onto the couch and clicks the TV on.

 

* * *

 

Dean drifts into consciousness with the sound of canned laughter coming from the living room. He pulls open one eye, noticing a blurry, red “1:25” staring back at him. He blinks a few times before pushing himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

He stumbles down the hall to the darkened living room, soaked in a soft blue glow from the TV. Castiel sits on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table, heavy-lidded eyes staring at the screen.

“What’s up?” Dean yawns, settling down on the arm of the couch. 

“Can’t sleep,” Castiel sighs, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Dean frowns.

“Is something wrong with the mattress?” he asks. Sam had never complained, but he’s pretty sure that guy could’ve slept through the apocalypse. 

Castiel shakes his head. “No, it’s…” He splays his hands out over his middle. “My stomach is making it impossible to get comfortable.” His voice is tight with frustration and hoarse, no doubt from being awake for hours. Dean considers him before rising to his feet. 

“Can I… Can I try something?” he asks. Castiel looks up at him; he looks awful, face drawn down and gaunt in the harsh light. 

“What?” he asks, his brows drawing together. Dean tips his head to the side in answer, indicating for Castiel to follow. 

He pushes open Cas’ bedroom door and holds out a hand toward the bed. “Lay down.” he says. Castiel does as he is told, settling onto the mattress with some care for his stomach. “Stay right there. I’ll be back in a sec.” Dean goes into his bedroom, pulling his extra pillow from the bed. 

He returns to Castiel’s room, moving to the other side of the bed and facing Castiel. He hesitates for a moment before placing a tentative hand on Cas’ stomach.

“Lift up,” he says quietly. Castiel turns, allowing room between his stomach and the bed, Dean wedges a pillow in the space, smoothing it down. “Ok, you can roll back.” Castiel does, giving an impressed look.

“Better?” he asks. 

Castiel looks up at him. “Yeah. How’d you figure that out?” Dean shrugs.

“‘What to Expect’ mentioned it,” he says. Castiel raises his head.

“”What to Expect?’” he asks. “Like ‘ _ What to Expect When Your Omega is Expecting _ ?’” Dean nods. “When did you read that?”

“A couple weeks after you moved in,” he mumbles with a mix of pride and embarrassment. Castiel gives him an incredulous look.

“Really?”

“Charlie recommended it,” he says, adjusting the pillow probably more than it needed. “She said if I was going to be living with a pregnant omega, I shouldn’t be completely clueless.” Castiel stares at him thoughtfully and Dean shifts his bare feet in the carpet. 

“I’ll let you get to sleep,” Dean says. He starts to turn, but Castiel pipes up. 

“Dean, can I ask for another favor?” he glances back and nods. “Can you just… stay for a few minutes?” Dean must look surprised, because Castiel continues. “Your… You help me relax.” Dean blinks several times, mouth hanging open slightly. 

“Uh, sure, whatever you need.” He sits on the edge of the bed, Castiel’s feet tucked under the comforter and resting at Dean’s leg. Dean sits there awkwardly, but a small thrill sparks inside of him as he watches over the omega.

As restless as Castiel had been, it only takes a few minutes for his breathing to grow even and a soft snore to escape him. Dean waits a little while, watching him sleep before rising from the bed and returning to his own room.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean’s eyes blink open slowly, noticing the body beneath him. Castiel's back curls into his chest, the little spoon to Dean’s big. Castiel’s scent tickling his nose and his hair sticks in Dean’s mouth.

It’s not the first morning they’ve woken up in the same bed, but it is certainly the first morning they’ve woken up this close, physically speaking.

After that initial evening, it became a regular thing for Dean to stay with Castiel until he fell asleep. They don’t really discuss it, but it’s clear from the way the bags fade from under Castiel’s eyes that it does him a world of good.

Sitting at the edge of the bed turns into Dean passing out next to Castiel and waking up with his arm pinned beneath his dark head. Dean isn’t sure what prompts it, but it's not long before they are simply sharing Dean’s bed, always starting at opposite sides but waking up touching in someway.

It’s all platonic, of course, just a brush of shoulders or maybe Castiel’s arm flung over his chest. Still, it doesn’t help Dean or his ever-growing attraction to Castiel. Every shift on the bed makes him hyper-aware of his own body and what it’s doing to his nerves. He breathes a sigh of relief each morning that he hasn’t woken up humping the omega’s thigh in his sleep, or licking at his neck, or something worse.

“Something worse” like right now, for example.

It wouldn’t be so bad if they were just spooning, but the way Castiel presses back into him, his ass wedged against Dean’s crotch, is like some divine sort of torture.    

Castiel’s body seems to radiate warmth and if Dean didn't know better, he'd swear he was nearing his heat. _Must_ _be_ _a_ _side_ _effect_ _of_ _pregnancy_ , Dean thinks.

His hand hangs lazily over Castiel’s middle and he can sense little shifts and bumps under his forearm. Castiel had said the pup was most active in the morning, bouncing on his bladder. Dean slips his arm back slowly until his hand rests casually on the side of Cas’ belly. Something firm moves under his thumb and away again. It's a little weird and Dean’s mind conjures up the image of an _Alien_ chestburster popping out. Still, he can't help smiling stupidly at the pup’s movements.

Castiel shifts and groans softly, snuggling deeper against him. Dean stills, his heart rate amping up. The slight movement has an unwanted effect in his groin and once again Dean tries to move his hips away from Castiel.

He makes the mistake of inhaling through his nose, Castiel's scent so close and raw that Dean’s vision blurs. Dean dips his head down, his nose hovering just above the skin at the crook of Cas’ neck. It's a little creepy, sure, but just a little whiff won't hurt. Dean can only resist temptation for so long.

As he takes his first inhale, though, Castiel groans louder, his ass rocking back far enough that the beginnings of Dean’s knot brush against him. Castiel's arm slides down, fingers clenching on Dean’s wrist and holding him in place.

Panic spikes through Dean and his nostrils flare as the first hints of slick hit the air. The breath punches out of Dean’s lungs as Cas arches his back and grinds down against Dean with some force.

Dean hisses and closes his eyes. He leans his head away, hoping to avoid breathing in anymore of the heady aroma. Castiel’s movements continue, picking up a rhythm to match the soft murmured moans in his sleep. The grinding doesn't slow and Dean thinks if it lasts much longer, he's going to spend like a newly-presented alpha.

Dean grits his teeth. He may be barely holding onto his lucid mind, but he has enough of it to put a stop to this.

“Cas!” Dean barks out. He doesn't have the time or patience to wake Castiel with any sort of gentleness. “Castiel, Wake up!”

Castiel wakes with a happy inhale, smacking his lips lightly. He hums and leans back into Dean for a moment before realization hits him. He jerks away from Dean as if burned.

“Oh my God,” Castiel gasps, sitting up in bed. His eyes dart from Dean’s face to his crotch, thankfully covered by a blanket. “What the-”

“You were… um…” Dean tries to find the most polite way to say he was dry humping him in his sleep. Castiel’s eyes widen and his mouth pulls down in horror. Dean scrambles off the bed before he can say a word.

“I should hop in the shower,” he mutters, walking carefully so his hard on isn’t too obvious. As soon as Dean steps underneath the hot spray of water, it only takes a few strokes and one hard tug at the swollen base to have him popping a knot and painting the shower wall with thick white ropes of come.

Dean can’t even enjoy his orgasm. He slumps against the wall, forehead resting on the back of his forearm and cursing under his breath.

He is so fucked. Castiel trusted him and he completely obliterated that. As soon as he realized what was happening, he should’ve woken Castiel up. Instead, he gave into his pleasure, allowing himself to scent Cas like a fucking pervert alpha.

Dean lets the water wash over him for several minutes, reluctant to get out or face Castiel. _If he's even there,_ Dean thinks bitterly. He wouldn't be surprised if he came out of the bathroom to find Cas gone and his bedroom haphazardly cleared out.

Dean steps out of the shower and towels off, slipping back into his sleep shorts and tshirt and grimacing at the sticky feeling of sweat and precome against his clean skin.

As he steps out of the bathroom. Castiel sits at the dining table, wrapped in a navy blue bathrobe. His hands are clamped around a mug of tea and his brow is drawn together in deep thought.

He flinches when he senses Dean’s presence but doesn't look up from his mug.

“Dean,” Castiel begins.

“Cas, there is no excuse for my-”

“Dean, I would like to apologize for my… actions just now.” He raises his head, staring Dean directly in the eye. Dean’s mouth claps shut; he certainly wasn't expecting this.

“Uh… What?”

“I need to offer an apology.” Castiel takes a slow sip of his tea. “My behavior was unbelievably inappropriate-”

“You were asleep,” Dean mumbles with some confusion.

“That doesn't make it right,” Castiel sighs. He opens his mouth to speak but hesitates. “I must admit that my… body is going a little haywire right now and my dreams are exceptionally vivid.” Dean blinks a few times in surprise; is Cas saying he’s horny?

“Not that I’m making excuses,” He adds quickly, giving Dean a solemn look. “It was still a gross abuse of your hospitality-”

“Cas, hey, no, no,” Dean interrupts. He wants to reach out, rub Castiel's back or hold his hand reassuringly, but he decides against it. “Really, I’m not mad. And you don’t have to explain. ‘What to Expect’ totally broke this down.” The information doesn’t seem to help as Castiel turns an even deeper shade of red.

“Thank you for understanding,” Cas says, “and thank you for… waking me up before it went… farther.” Dean tenses, not sure he can accept the second apology. He debates whether or not he should fess up to trying to scent Cas, but the tension in the room is great enough as it is without heaping more embarrassment on the two of them.

“Water under the bridge,” Dean says, holding up his hands.

“I should probably stay in my own room again,” Castiel says and Dean’s stomach sinks.

“Y’know, you don’t have to,” Dean sputters out quickly. The desperate animal part of his brain demands he shut down this idea immediately. “I mean, if being in my room helps you sleep, then that’s a good thing.” Castiel looks up at him, tilting his head oddly.

“We can always put a body pillow between us,” Dean offers with a shrug. Castiel considers the suggestion before nodding.

“Yes, a pillow,” he agrees. “That might work.” Dean exhales softly in relief and walks into the kitchen.

“You hungry?” he asks, desperate to change subject.

“Yes, starving,” Castiel answer, a little too quickly. They make small talk about what to make, but the tension still hangs between them. Dean wonders when, or if, it might disappear completely.

 

* * *

 

Castiel appreciated Dean’s attempts to brush off the incident, but he could still feel it hanging over them all through breakfast. Dean chattered on about some hospital soap opera, but Castiel was too distracted by his own embarrassment and frustration to follow. It was with some relief when he announced he had to spend most of the day at Anna’s, assisting with the upcoming baby shower.

Castiel methodically folds diaper-shaped invitations, enjoying the repetition of the activity. It’s almost distracting enough to keep his mind off of the incident this morning. Almost.

 _I tried to dry hump Dean in my sleep._ The words repeat themselves over and over in Castiel’s head. _And unless I'm imagining something, I'm pretty sure that was a real erection I was feeling._ Castiel is thankful that Gabriel and Hannah are too busy arguing over baby shower details to notice the flush in Castiel’s cheeks.

“A fresh fruit bar is such a healthy alternative, though,” Hannah insists, as she peels off an address label and sticks it on an envelope.

“I’m not saying we can’t _also_ have fruit,” Gabriel insists, browsing through decorations on the party website. “But, c’mon! You need cake. At least cupcakes! It’s a baby shower.”

“It’s not like it’s a birthday,” Hannah gives him a pointed look.

“Sort of is,” Gabriel mutters. Castiel’s eyes dart between them as they go back and forth. Hannah had initially volunteered to host Anna and Charlie’s baby shower, but when Gabriel found out he wasn’t even asked, he insisted on being involved as well, roping Castiel in with him.

“Sheet cakes are pricey,” Hannah says. “As are gourmet cupcakes. You’re talking $3 per-”

“Look, _I’ll_ bake the cake,” Gabriel says. “Or cupcakes or whatever. I can do it, I’m pretty good. Right, Castiel?” It takes Castiel a moment to realize he’s being spoken to.

“Oh… uh, yeah,” he says. “Yeah, he can bake.” Gabriel holds out a hand in demonstration.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Gabriel says. “Although you were a little slow on the uptake there.”

Castiel shoots his brother a glare. “I’m just distracted that all.”

“You’re fidgety,” Gabriel snorts. Castiel realizes he’s right and immediately stills in his seat and presses a hand against his leg to stop it from bouncing. “Too much caffeine today or something?”

Hannah flashes a sly smile. “I remember those days when I was pupped,” she says. “I’m pretty sure I drove Gad to exhaustion.”  Gabriel’s head flicks from her to Castiel.

“What are you talking about?” he asks, frowning deeply. “What is she talking about, Castiel?” Castiel mouth extends into a flat line and Hannah bites at her lip shyly, realizing that she might’ve overstepped.

“What is Castiel like horny or something?” Gabriel’s chuckle fades as Castiel's cheeks flush a deep red. His jaw drops and he looks at his brother. “Oh my God, you are!”

“Gabriel, please,” Castiel hisses, pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“It's nothing to be ashamed of Castiel,” Hannah offers. “It's a common reaction to hormonal changes for most omegas during pregnancy.” She pats his shoulder reassuringly, but Castiel grimaces.

“I'm not ashamed,” he mutters. He gives Hannah a tight but friendly smile. “I know it’s natural. I just don't want to discuss it.”

“If you can’t discuss it with family and…” he waves a vague hand toward Hannah, “party planners, then who can you talk about it with? I tell you about all of _my_ sexual exploits.”

“Which I never ask for,” Castiel sighs. “Seriously, no one asks.”

“Is there perhaps someone you could ask for help?” Hannah pipes up, changing the subject. “An alpha or a beta maybe?” Castiel opens his mouth but hesitates. He wants to avoid mentioning anything about this morning and Dean; it would only add fuel to Gabriel’s fire.

The back door opens and Anna steps inside, her arms looped with plastic shopping bags.

“I’m back. Got some stuff for lunch, if you want.” she drops the bags on the counter. “What are you guys up to?”

“We’re discussing how being pupped is making Castiel super horny.” Gabriel says, Anna blinks several times as she slowly pulls a couple items from a bag.

“Um… Oh. Ok.” She looks over at him. “Really, Castiel?” Castiel lets his head slip down to the table with a groan.

“Enough, already,” he sighs.

“It’s really nothing to be ashamed of.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Hannah adds. Castiel lets out a frustrated growl and jerks his head up from the table.

“Oh, for God’s sake, I know it’s nothing to be ashamed of! I am not!” he says. “Can we please get off this topic?”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get off,” Gabriel snorts.

“Gabriel!” Anna and Castiel shout simultaneously, but Gabriel just chuckles under his breath. Castiel rolls his eyes; clearly, his sex life is more interesting than making invitations.

“To answer your previous question, no, there is no one I can ask,” he says. “The alphas I’m familiar with are all in Denver.”

“I bet Balthazar would volunteer,” Gabriel offers with a wry smile. “Enthusiastically, at that.” Castiel grimaces at the name.

“No,” he says flatly. “I’ve met your roommate and I don’t want to encourage him.”

“Man, you are missing out, then.” Gabriel’s lips stretch into a wide grin. “I tell you what.”

“Wasn’t there an alpha you dated in this area?” Anna asks. “Michael or something? You guys are still friendly, right?”

Castiel shakes his head. “He got mated last year.” A moment of quiet falls between them, only broken by the sound of Anna putting away groceries.

“What about Dean?” Gabriel asks. Castiel flinches at the name.

“Wha… What?”

“Dean. Y’know… The alpha you’re living with, rent-free?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Are you saying I owe him?”

“No, no, of course not!” Gabriel waves a hand dismissively. “What I’m saying is, you want an alpha, right?” Castiel bites at his lip but nods reluctantly. “Someone you can trust?” Castiel nods again. “Someone good looking?” Castiel rolls his eyes. “Well, this guy seems to fit the bill _and_ he’s letting you stay with him for the sake of the pup. Plus, Charlie and Hannah can both vouch for him.” He hooks a thumb at Hannah, who gives a half shrug and a nod.

“I don’t know him too well personally,” she says. “But he has a good reputation.” Castiel swallows hard. He didn’t need his brother telling him that Dean is kind, trustworthy and attractive; he’s more than aware of that fact. A memory from this morning and the beginnings of a knot pressed against his backside flash through his mind, causing a shiver to run up his spine. He takes a deep breath and pushes the feeling away.

“That is an utterly ridiculous idea, Gabriel.” He gives his head a quick shake and returns to stuffing envelopes. “Really, that’s just… no. Now can we please talk about something else?” Anna flashes a soft smile and squeezes his shoulder before asking Hannah what they’ve got planned for the shower so far.

Castiel breathes a sigh of relief. He tries to focus on his task, but he’s still restless and spun up and thinking about this morning does nothing to help the matter. Gabriel’s words run through his mind: _Why not Dean?_ Maybe if Castiel brought it up, flirted a little...

No. No he shouldn’t do that.

 _Don’t shit where you eat_ , Castiel reminds himself, _and don’t complicate a situation further._

 

* * *

 

As the week continues, the question is never far from Castiel’s mind.

 _Why not Dean?_  he thinks when he wakes up in the morning, their ankles twined together in spite of the body pillow separating them.

 _Why not Dean?_ he thinks as he watches Dean cook dinner, talking animatedly while recounting some event at work.

 _Why not Dean?_ he thinks, Dean’s arm a comfortable weight over his shoulder as they watch one of Dean’s home improvement shows.

Gabriel’s reasoning seems more and more sound as Castiel considers it. Dean’s generosity has been infallible up to this point. Would it be such a stretch for Castiel to ask for one more favor? It's not like he wants a relationship or a commitment. He just needs the edge taken off a little. Most alphas would jump at the chance to bed a willing, hot-to-trot omega, pupped or not.

Castiel also has hard evidence, so to speak, that Dean doesn't find him completely unattractive, in spite of how he has ballooned up in the last month and a half.

He frowns at the last thought, staring at his oversized belly in the mirror. Dr. Shurley said his weight gain and size were completely average for an omega, but Castiel certainly doesn't feel that way. Before pregnancy he'd been in amazing shape, he was a marathon runner for Christ’s sake. Now he can't climb a flight of stairs without getting winded.

Castiel pulls up his shirt, a fresh array of puce stretch marks crossing the underside of his belly. He runs his hand over them, almost undetectable if he closes his eyes. Castiel has never been vain or overly-concerned about his appearance before, but the bone-deep pain he feels looking at the marred skin is impossible to push away.

The chorus of “I Just Can’t Get Enough” abruptly starts playing, Castiel’s ringtone. It’s a welcome distraction and he picks up his phone and answers it.

“Hello, Anna,”

“Hey, we’re downstairs.” his sister says. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll be right down,” he says. He clicks off the phone and pulls down his shirt. He grabs his keys from the table and heads out the door, locking it behind him.

 

* * *

 

Charlie practically bounces down the sidewalk, the strip of filmy paper flapping in her hand. Castiel and Anna follow, twin amused expressions on their faces.

“Charlie, take it easy,” Anna says with a gentle laugh.

“But look at it, Anna!” Charlie stops, almost buzzing with excitement. “Look at her!”

“Yes, I saw.” Anna casts a sideways look to Castiel and shakes her head: _What can you do?_

“But she looks just like you!” Charlie tenderly trails a finger over the grainy black and gray image. “Look at her nose. She’s got your nose!” Anna’s brow draws together and she leans over to look at the photo in her mate’s hand.

“Her nose is squashed,” she says, glancing up at Charlie. “How can you even tell?” Castiel smiles to himself, watching his sister and her mate launch into a playful argument as he walks down the sidewalk.

“Waddle” would probably be a more accurate description of his movements, his center of gravity completely thrown off by his ever expanding stomach.

“How far is this restaurant?” Castiel asks, glancing back at Anna. She'd said it wasn't far from the clinic, but he's not seeing any sort of outdoor cafe within the next two blocks.

“It's just at this next right,” Anna says, taking a few quick steps to meet Castiel, looping her arm in his. “Y'know, it's right next to that one baby store that sells the organic-” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she looks down the street.

“Hey, isn’t that Dean and… Oh, Hi Lisa!”

Castiel whips his head around, just in time to see Dean coming around the corner ahead of them, walking in stride with his hypnobirth coach.

It takes a second for them to register Anna’s voice, Dean too caught up in something Lisa is saying, his smile bright and toothy.

Castiel's jaw tightens at the sight and an unfamiliar feeling of resentment clenches in his chest.

“Anna! Castiel! Hi!” Lisa reaches out, taking both Anna and Castiel’s hands and giving them a friendly squeeze. “It’s so nice to see you. It’s been too long.” She turns to Charlie. “And you must be Anna’s mate.”

“Charlie. Hi,” she says, offering her hand.

“It’s wonderful to meet you.” Lisa shakes her hand. “I’ve heard such wonderful wonderful things.” Her eyes fall to the strip of photos in Charlie’s hand. “Is that…?” Charlie lights up and begins to babble proudly as she and Anna show off the 3D ultrasound photos.

Castiel stands on the outside of the huddle, his eyes meeting Dean’s. He flashes Castiel a friendly look, but there is something else in his expression which Castiel can’t quite put his finger on. His eyes keep flicking to Lisa’s back and Castiel doesn’t like it.

“I didn’t realize that you two knew each other,” Anna says, pointing a finger between Dean and Lisa.

“Dean takes me to hypnobirth classes,” Castiel pipes up, reminding his sister.

“Of course,” Anna sighs, tapping her head in a “duh” motion. “What are you up to today?” Both Lisa and Dean’s mouths hang open slightly, shooting each other cryptic looks. The clench in Castiel’s chest seems to wind tighter at whatever shared secret they have between them.

“We just grabbed some lunch,” Lisa says. She glances down at her watch. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I actually have to go pick up my son.”

“I’ll walk you back,” Dean says. They offer brief waves and continue walking down the block. Castiel’s eyes follow them for a moment before turning back to Anna and Charlie, who chat excitedly.

“So… Where's this cafe?” Castiel asks. His expression is cheerful, but it betrays the roiling feeling in his gut. Just watching Dean walk away, a gorgeous, petite omega like Lisa at his side had his hackles rising. In that moment, he despises Lisa, and the feeling is accompanied by an overwhelming sense of guilt.

He’s jealous. He knows he is, and he hates it. He hates this unearned possessiveness he has over Dean. Dean isn't his alpha, he has no claim on him, no matter how Castiel has deluded himself.

Stupid Gabriel putting stupid ideas in his head.

He follows Anna and Charlie toward the cafe, but his appetite has vanished. He swallows down a bitter sob as they push through the door, flashing his sister a forced smile when she gives him a curious look.

“Hey, you ok?” Her nostrils flare a little, no doubt picking up on his scent.

“I'm fine,” Castiel lies. “Just need to sit down.” Anna gives him a sympathetic look and squeezes his arm as they find a table.

 

* * *

 

“This is me,” Lisa says as they reach her little blue Corolla. Dean smiles and nods, noting that his Impala is just on the other side of the lot. “Thanks for lunch.”

“Well, thank you for your help,” Dean replies with a shrug. “I’m clueless when it comes to all this baby stuff… stuff.”

“Not so clueless,” Lisa offers. “You had a pretty good idea of what Charlie would like.”

“Yeah, but Anna-”

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” she assures. A frown pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Sorry you couldn’t find a ‘push’ present for Castiel.” Dean exhales heavily through his nose and runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, it was just an idea,” he says. “Probably overstepping my boundaries, to be honest.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Lisa says. “I also think it’s wonderful what you’re doing for all of them. Really noble, y’know.”

Dean gives a confused smile and shrugs again. “Anyone in my place would do the same thing.”

“No.” Lisa shakes her head. “They wouldn’t.” Her dark eyes meet his. There's a drawn out moment of silence between them before Lisa pipes up again. “I had a really good time today, Dean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says with a quick nod, gathering his bearings. “Me too.” Lisa looks away, her lip caught between her teeth.

“You know, we could do this again,” she says. “Maybe next weekend? Grab some dinner? Ben will be at his dad’s place. We could…” She trails off, letting Dean’s mind fill in the gaps.

Dean blinks dumbly as his brain catches up with the conversation. “Oh,” he says as realization hits. “Uh… that’s, uh… That’s a nice offer, Lisa.” A wry smile twists at Lisa’s mouth.

“I sense there’s a ‘but’ there.”

Dean lets out a mirthless chuckle. “Yeah, there is.” He meets her gaze, trying to look as apologetic as possible. “I’m sorry, but… I can’t.” Dean braces himself for anger or some sort of snide remark, like he’s gotten from past omegas or beta, but Lisa just lets out a resigned sigh.

“There’s someone else isn’t there?” She asks. Dean could lie, but there’s no reason to.

“Yeah,” he admits. “Yeah, there is.” Lisa nods.

“Yeah, I figured,” she says. “It’s Castiel, isn’t it?” Dean hesitate, trying to think of the best way to respond.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally says. It’s as honest as he can be; even he’s not sure of what is happening between himself and Castiel. Maybe it's all in his head. Lisa gives him a comforting smile.

“Probably not as complicated as you think,” She says, hitting the unlock button on her key fob and unlocking the door. “If you ever need to talk, Dean, about anything,” she gives him a warm smile, “you have my number.” Dean waves a goodbye as she slips into the driver’s seat and turns the engine.

He watches her pull out of her spot and drive off the lot before walking back toward the Impala. He sits in the silence of the car for a long time, his head falling back over the cool leather of the seat.

So he has a little bit of a crush on Castiel? So what?

* * *

 

Dean gets home to the apartment and is instantly hit by the sharp odor of sorrow.

“Castiel?” Dean calls out, dropping his keys and jacket at the foot of the door. “Cas?” Choked sobs drift from the hallway and panic surges through Dean. His feet seem to carry him of their own accord down the hall but abruptly stop at Castiel's open bedroom door.

He stands with his back to the door, shirtless and wearing just his maternity jeans, the thick nylon rolled down over his hips. His shoulders are hunched and shaking with each watery gulp of air.

“Cas! Oh my God, Cas!” Dean exclaims as he rushes into the room. “What happened? What's wrong?” He turns Castiel by he shoulder. His face is red and puffy, tears running down his cheeks while his mouth clenches in an ugly grimace.

In the back of his mind, Dean wonders how he can be such an ugly crier and still look so cute.

“Dean?” Castiel's voice is small and pitiful .

“What's wrong? Are you in pain?” Dean starts to reach for his cell phone. “I'll call 911 right now and then Anna and Charlie-”

“I’m huge!” Castiel blurts out, followed by another sob. He covers his face and cries into his hands. Dean stands frozen, still ready to dial his cell phone but trying to process the situation.

“What?”

“I'm huge and fat and, and… Look at me!” Dean turns his head, noticing that Castiel is staring at himself in the full body mirrors attached to the wall. He blinks a few times, staring at Castiel’s reflection.

“Uh… You’re pregnant,” Dean answers dumbly.

“I know that!” Castiel snaps, swinging his head around. “But I’m just, like… blown up! I’m not even ‘cute’ pregnant… I’m a house!” Another whimper catches in Castiel’s throat. Dean’s mouth hang opens as he mentally scrambles for something reassuring to say.

“Well, yeah, but a you’re a pretty awesome house.”

“What!?” Castiel squawks.

“I just mean because...” Dean stumbles out. “Because you’re like... housing the pup. You see what I’m saying?” Castiel’s eyes narrow at him and Dean picks up on the vague traces of anger in the air. “I’m making this worse, aren’t I?”

“Yeah,” Castiel says slowly. Dean exhales a nervous laugh.

“What I’m trying to say here is…” He takes a deep breath in. “You’re doing something really amazing here. You’re… You’re growing a fucking person! That’s like magic!”

“It’s just pregnancy,” Cas sighs, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a lot more than that,” Dean remarks. “Anna and Charlie think so, and I have to agree.” Castiel averts his eyes sheepishly and rubs a hand over his face.

“And what do you mean you’re not ‘cute pregnant’?” Dean asks, his brow furrowing. He has never heard that term before in his life. Castiel waves a vague hand in the air.

“You know...” he says. “That thing where someone’s all belly and absolutely nothing else on them changes or grows. They’re just cute and petite and…” he trails off, a soft blush of embarrassment rising to his face. Dean squints his eyes in confusion.

“And how does that not apply to you?” he asks. Castiel lifts his head, matching Dean’s confused expression. “Seriously, look at you. From behind no one would even be able to tell.”

A small smile twitches at the corner of Castiel’s mouth. “Thank you.”

“And I’m serious, Cas, if you're self conscious, you really don't have to be,” Dean continues. “I didn’t even realize this has been bothering you.” Castiel shrugs.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles. “I don’t think I’m vain, it’s just… I saw myself in the mirror this morning and I just thought about how flat my stomach used to be and how I’ll probably never get that back-”

“You can,” Dean insists.

Castiel shrugs glumly. “Maybe, we’ll see, I guess,” he says. “And then I saw…” he drags a hand over the side of his belly over a series of long, jagged marks.

“Stretch marks?” Dean asks. Castiel sighs and nods.

“I just saw them and knew they'd never go away and… I don't know, I just lost it.” Dean frowns deeply, gazing down at the Castiel’s stomach. Something inside of him sizzles with anger, and he has the sudden desire to wrap Castiel in his arms and kiss him hard enough to make all of that self doubt vanish.

He doesn't, though. Dean lifts a hand, his eyes darting from Castiel's stomach to meet Cas’ gaze.

“May I?” He asks, his hand hovering just above the belly. Castiel nods and pushes up on the ball of his foot, the front of his bump meeting Dean’s hand.

Dean can't help the toothy grin. He's felt Castiel's stomach before; that awkward morning in bed wasn't the first nor the last time Dean had found himself waking with his arm wrapped around Castiel’s middle. This is different though. It's not an accident or some unconscious movement- it’s Castiel deliberately and explicitly allowing it.

Dean trails his hand over the swell of his stomach, the skin warm beneath his touch and a soft, barely-visible line of hair running down past his navel to the underside. Small tremors and flutters vibrate beneath Dean’s fingers and a small, sharp kick causes his grin to spread even wider. A soft, watery chuckle from Castiel pulls Dean’s attention back to the moment.

Dean clears his throat. “This,” he tips his head down, “is awesome.” Dean places a second hand on Castiel’s belly, cradling it and running the pads of his thumbs over the lines of the stretch marks. “These are awesome.” Castiel sniffs and huffs a laugh. Dean bites at his lip, deliberating for a moment before kneeling down in front of Castiel. He leans forward and plants a gentle kiss along one of the jagged marks, followed by another, his lips lingering a second longer than the first.

“And you are awesome,” he mumbles, trying to keep his voice even. “And cute-pregnant as hell. Don’t… Don't think otherwise.” Dean hears a quiet intake of breath and looks up to see Castiel’s surprised expression. He worries he might have taken it too far, but Castiel just barks out a genuine, happy laugh. Dean can’t help laughing, as well.

They are both still chuckling as Dean picks himself off the floor, Castiel wiping at his eyes. Castiel reaches over and grabs his shirt off the bed, slipping it over his head. Their laughter tapers off and Dean’s gaze meets Castiel’s. His face is open and happy, his eyes still red and his cheeks still flushed from crying. Dean finds himself watching Castiel’s mouth, memorizing the shape of his lips, and wanting to kiss him more than anything.

But he doesn’t.

“C’mon,” he says, gesturing to Castiel. “Follow me.” They move to the living room, Dean directing Cas to sit on the couch. He flops down onto the opposite end, patting at his lap.

“Foot, please,” He says. Castiel looks perturbed, but sets his left foot in Dean’s lap, the right still set on the ground. Dean rolls off Castiel’s sock and begins massaging a thumb onto the ball of his foot.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks.

Dean shrugs. “You’ve been walking a lot today. Your feet are probably sore,” he says. “‘What to Expect’ said this was good for pregnancy.” Castiel squirms as Dean applies firm pressure up Cas’ arch.

“Ticklish?” He flashes a coy smile at Cas, who just purses his mouth.

“I swear you know more about pregnancy than I do,” Castiel mutters, settling back onto the couches pillows. Dean shrugs.

“I’m just playing this by ear,” he says. They are quiet for a long time, Castiel’s eye fluttering closed as Dean continues to rub his feet.

“So…” Castiel lifts his head and opens his eyes. “Did you have fun on your date this afternoon?” Dean’s hands stop moving and he blinks several times.

“Date?” he asks. Castiel tilts his head to the side.

“With Lisa,” he clarifies.

Dean’s brow furrows. “What are you talking about?” Does Castiel think he and Lisa are dating?

Castiel blinks this time. “You went out for lunch today.” He says it slowly, as if trying to jog Dean’s sluggish memory. Dean snorts and shakes his head.

“Uh, that wasn’t a date,” he says. “Lisa was helping me find a baby gift.”

“What?” Castiel’s face pinches in confusion.

“She was helping me look for a baby gift,” Dean admits. “I don’t know anything about what is trendy or what a baby needs. I figured that since she’s around a lot of pregnancy…” he shrugs.

“Charlie and Anna have a registry,” Castiel points out. Dean’s hands stop again and he gives Cas a deadpan look.

“I’m not buying something for Charlie off of a registry,” Dean says. “I want to be more creative than that.” Castiel frowns and folds his arms across his chest.

“You could’ve asked me,” he says, his tone a little offended that Dean didn’t.

“You yourself said that you and Anna don’t keep secrets.” Dean gives him a pointed look. “And I sure as shit doubt that Anna keeps any secrets from Charlie.”

“Point made,” Castiel mumbles. Another lull falls between them until Castiel pipes up once more. “Can I ask you a… personal question?” Dean looks up to meet his eyes and shrugs.

“Sure.”

“How come you don’t have a mate?” Castiel asks. Dean gives a sad smile; it’s not an unfamiliar question, he’s gotten it plenty of times before. The answer is always the same.

“I don’t know,” he says. “Just never happened, I guess.”

“Ever been close?” Castiel leans forward an inch in interest. Dean hesitates for a moment in his massage, but keeps going. That question is new.

“Nope,” he answers honestly. “It’s not…” he exhales through his nose, trying to choose his words. “It’s not like I haven’t had relationships, but nothing serious.”

“Not a settling down type of alpha?” Dean could be wrong, but Castiel almost sounds bitter.

“It’s not that,” Dean admits. “I’d be all for it but… there was always something. First, taking care of Sam and making sure he had a chance, then college, then climbing the corporate ladder…” He holds his hands out in a resigned movement. “Always an excuse, right?”

“Is that why you donated your sperm?” This earns a real laugh from Dean.

“I did that because I needed the cash,” Dean admits. “Impala needed major work, I fit all the criteria. My story really isn’t as noble as yours.” Castiel chuckles.

“Nah, I just doing what anyone in my position would.”

“You know that’s not true,” Dean says without looking up from Castiel’s foot. “What do you think about Chinese food tonight? That sound good?” Castiel flashes a bright, gummy smile at him and something in Dean’s stomach twists.

“Yeah, Chinese sounds great.” he says.

“Cool, I’ll call in a little bit.” Dean nods. “But first.. right foot.” Castiel lifts his other leg and places it in Dean’s lap.

 


	7. Chapter 7

Castiel sits in an overstuffed chair in the corner of Hannah’s living room, a plate of hors d'oeuvres balanced on his knees and a glass of neon green, non-alcoholic punch in his hand, being ignored by the rest of the party guests.

The situation is in and of itself unique. At a baby shower, the parents-to-be are generally the center of attention, as Charlie and Anna currently are. While Castiel understands why he, as a family member and the one carrying the actual pup, is here, his presence really doesn’t serve  a purpose. 

All of the guests are friends of Charlie and Anna, few of whom he recognizes. He’s met a handful of them in passing or at the dinner party they held a couple months back, but his interaction with them has been the bare minimum of small talk.

There are a couple people he knows well, of course: Hannah and Gabriel, both of whom are occupied with hosting duties and mingling amongst the guests, as well as Hannah’s mate Gadreel,  who walks around looking about as awkward as Castiel and occasionally giving him a solemn nod in solidarity.

Probably the thing that irks Castiel the most is how useless he feels. Hannah and Gad barred him from helping with decorations and even Gabriel kicked him out of the kitchen when he tried to assist with the cooking. All he could do it seemed was drink his punch and watch the guests wander in, their arms loaded with pale pink boxes and gift bags. 

Castiel pops a caprese bite in his mouth just as he sees a flash of red hair. His sister plops down onto the couch kitty corner to him.

“How’re you doing?” she asks. Castiel nods as he chews.

“Fine. Eating.” he says. He picks a cookie up off his plate, looking at it with concern. “Does Gabriel know that Halloween was two weeks ago? Why did he make witch hat cookies?”

Anna snorts. “They’re not witch hats, they’re sorting hats,” she corrects. She waves a hand around the room. “It’s all Harry Potter, get it?”

Castiel takes in the decorations. “Ah,” he says. “Charlie’s idea?” He raises an eyebrow at Anna, who just gives an affectionate eye roll in answer. Charlie’s bubbling laugh drifts from across the room and Castiel catches the sweet little smile on her face.

He shakes his head. “It’s a good thing you’re already mated to her, otherwise I’d say you have a crush,” he says with a chuckle.

Anna shrugs. “Damn straight,” she replies. She glances over at Castiel, her smile growing a little sad.

“What?” he asks. Anna bites at her lip, like she’s hesitating on saying what she’s thinking. “ _ What _ ?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing, nothing,” she mumbles. “I just… What about you, Castiel?” His expression pulls together, confused.

“‘What about me’ what?” he asks. 

“What about you… finding someone, a mate?”

“Anna.” he sighs, setting his plate aside.

“Look, I’m just thinking out loud, ok?” She takes one of his hands in hers. “I just want to see you as happy as I am.”

“I can be happy without having a mate,” Castiel assures her.

“True,” Anna  agrees. “But you’re open to the idea, right?”

“Yes, but-” He opens his mouth to say more, but can’t seem to find the words.

“But what?” Castiel shuts his mouth and gives a level stare at his sister. A bubbly beta woman suddenly interrupts them. 

“Anna, Oh My God, I am so excited for you!” The woman talks animatedly with his sister and rubs a hand over Castiel’s stomach. Normally, he’d be pissed about unwanted touching, but he’s grateful for the distraction. Castiel tips back his cup and finishes his punch.

“I have to get a refill.” he says as an excuse, pushing himself out of the chair. He beelines through the crowded room. Castiel hasn’t been to many baby showers, but this feels like an awful lot of people. He reaches the kitchen door, but freezes when he hears a low, familiar laugh. He pushes the door open to see his brother bent over another tray of hat cookies and Dean leaning against the counter, a cup of punch in his hand.

“Dean?” Castiel ask, his brows drawn down in confusion. Dean turns at his name and Castiel's stomach does a little flip at the way his face lights up.

“Hey, Cas,” he says.

“What are you doing here?” 

“He was invited, Castiel.” Gabriel nudges him with his elbow as he passes. “Be nice.”

Dean shrugs. “Charlie insisted,” Dean says with a shy smile. “I know alphas aren't usually invited to these kind of things-”

“Hey!” Gabriel pipes up. “I'm standing right here! And what about Charlie?”

“Charlie is one of the guests of honor,” Castiel points out. “And to be fair, Gabriel, you are technically  _ the host _ .” 

“Still, all alpha here,” Gabriel argues, flexing up one arm up.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, whatever, pipsqueak.”

“I'm big where it counts, freckles,” He teases. “And you lost your chance at this hot piece.” Before Dean can argue, Gabriel glides out of the kitchen with a fresh batch of cookies. Dean looks at Castiel who just gives a resigned shrug.

“Anna and I still aren't sure he’s not adopted,” he offers as an excuse. Dean chuckles and lifts a brightly wrapped box off the counter. 

“Do you know where I can put this?” He asks. Castiel leads him to the overflowing gift table. 

“So, Gabriel and Hannah have you hard at work, then?” Dean says as they maneuver through the crowd.

“Quote the opposite,” Castiel sighs. “I've been restricted from doing almost anything. I've basically been sitting on my ass since 9 am.”

Dean frowns. “Oh. Uh… Sorry, man.”

“It's alright, I've just been bored.” They reach the gift table, Dean’s eyes practically bugging out of his head at the pastel mountain of gifts.

“Jesus,” he mutters, setting his box down next to the others. Castiel's notices something odd about Dean’s gift.

“Is that.. Is that Christmas paper?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean sheepishly rubs at the back of his neck. “I was wrapping this at the last minute and this is all I had. I figure that the pup is due around Christmas, so... it's sort of fitting, right?” Castiel can’t help smiling at that. 

“Well, I’m sorry you’ve been restless all day,” Dean says, “but at least they probably won’t make you participate in any dumb party games.”

“With Gabriel, you never know.” Castiel sighs. 

“Everyone,” Hannah calls out, clapping her hands in rapid succession. “We’re going to get started. Can we bring it into the den please?”

“Speaking of which…” Castiel tips his head toward the sound and Dean follows him into the den.

Castiel’s not sure if it’s his scent or his presence, but having Dean at his side definitely has a positive effect on him. Just having someone he knows and can talk to without all the awkwardness makes the whole party far more enjoyable. 

They sit near the back of the group, watching the rest of the guests make fools of themselves during the party games for everyone else’s entertainment. Castiel nearly gags at Gabriel eating from the diaper, no matter how many times he’s assured that it’s just a melted candy bar. 

The gifts begin and a pile of pastel tissue paper and gift wrap start to grow at Anna and Charlie’s feet. Dean cracks quiet jokes with Castiel about having enough onesies to clothe an army of babies. Castiel’s snort of laughter earns a few derisive glares from the other guests, who shoot sideways glances at Dean as well, no doubt wondering why an unattached alpha is attending a Baby shower.

Anna takes Dean’s gift from Hannah, looking a little perplexed at the red and green wrapping.

“Looks like an early Christmas present,” she says, earning a titter of laughter through the group. Charlie takes the card off the top, reading it and offering a warm smile and a thank you to Dean. They carefully tear at the paper and open the box. As soon as they peers inside, Charlie squeaks and Anna’s jaw drops open. 

“Oh my God,” She gasps as she reaches into the box

“What is it?” someone asks.

“Star Wars books,” Charlie giggles, holding up a trio of books. “And Rockabye Baby CDs.” There are a few confused murmurs from the group. 

“They’re, uh, rock songs redone as lullabies,” Dean explains. “There were a lot of choices. I figured AC/DC, Bowie, and Zepplin were good starting points for the pup.” Charlie beams at Dean, hugging the discs to her chest.

“Thank you, Dean,” Anna says gratefully. “These are wonderful.” She passes the books and discs to her right, the other guests “oohing” and “aahing” over them. Castiel takes one of the books from the person before him, flipping through the pages. 

He feels a tug on his sleeve. Dean rises from the chair and nods his head toward the kitchen. Castiel follows him, no one noticing his exit as Hannah hands another gift bag to Anna.

“What’s up?” Castiel asks as the kitchen door swings closed behind them. Dean bites at his lip for a second before pulling a small, red-and-green wrapped present from behind his back. 

“I didn’t want to take away from Anna and Charlie’s day,” he says, “but I got something for you as well.” He extends the slim package toward Castiel, who blinks at it dumbly.

“Dean, you didn’t have to get me-”

“Look, Lisa was talking about how a ‘push present’ is kind of a tradition for expecting omegas,” Dean offers. “I didn’t get a chance to ask Anna if she or Charlie had any plans to do anything, but, just in case…” He trails off and shrugs. 

“Dean,” Castiel mumbles, finally taking the gift from him. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“And I’m happy to do more,” Dean admits, his words coming out a little too fast with just a hint of embarrassment. “Look, if it makes you feel better, it’s not like I spent a ton of money. I didn’t really spend anything, in fact.” Castiel purses his mouth, his guilt easing somewhat, and nods. He slides a finger beneath the seam of the paper, breaking the taped seal, and pulls out a plastic CD case.

“It’s a mix CD,” Dean blurts out. “I know it’s dumb-”

“It’s not dumb,” Castiel assures, eyes scanning the handwritten playlist framed in the back panel. He smiles as he reads the titles, most of them familiar names intermixed with ones he doesn’t recognize.

“This is great, Dean,” he says.

“You seem to have a thing for 80s music,” Dean explains. “I tried to mix it up a little bit, some rock, some pop.”

“You included Air Supply?” Castiel lifts a questioning eyebrow.

“They write heartfelt power ballads,” Dean says, a little defensive. “Don't judge me.” Castiel flips the CD to the front. 

“‘Best Uncle-slash-House Ever?’” he reads off the front cover, glancing up at Dean once more. 

“I thought it was kind of clever because… of what we were… talking about a couple weeks ago,” Dean stammers out, his expression faltering as he realizes his mistake. “I'm mean, I'm not saying you're fat or anything, you’re just acting as a house for the pup…” He sighs and drags a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, I was trying to be funny and I… I don’t think it’s really working.”

“No, I get it,” Castiel replies, beaming back at him. “It’s perfect, Dean. Thank you.” Without thinking, Castiel throws his arms around Dean, causing him to stumble back a step. Dean hugs Castiel back around his middle, giving him a careful squeeze. 

“My pleasure, Cas,” Dean mumbles into his hair. Castiel shuts his eyes, drawing in a long, rich inhale of Dean’s heady alpha scent. They pull apart after a moment, their faces a fraction of an inch too close. Castiel’s breath comes out shaky and his eyes linger on the plump curve of Dean’s lips, slightly parted and inviting. Before he can stop himself, Castiel moves and his lips brush against Dean’s in an innocent movement, and then again with more urgency. Dean doesn’t flinch or protest; he doesn’t react at all. Castiel notices Dean’s lack of reaction after a moment and pulls back.

“Um…” He swallows hard and presses his hand to his lips. “I’m so sorry. I don’t… I don’t know what came over me. I just-” Dean moves forward, cutting him off with a fierce kiss. His hands come up, cupping the back of Castiel’s head and pulling him closer. A whimper catches in Castiel’s throat as Dean’s tongue drags across his lips begging for entrance. Castiel parts his mouth, kissing Dean back. His hands grasp at his shirt, pressing the CD case against Dean’s chest. 

Castiel wants to move closer, get lost in Dean’s arms, but his pregnant belly prevents it. Dean doesn't seem to notice, his fingers winding through Castiel's hair as he continues to kiss him like he can't get enough.

Without warning the kitchen door swings open. Castiel tenses at the sound and jerks out of Dean’s hold, managing to keep the disc from falling to the floor.

“Oh, oh my God, sorry,” Charlie mumbles as she backs out the doorways. “Uh, I'll… I’ll come back.” The door swings closed behind her. Castiel stands frozen, his heart thrumming rapidly, either from the surprise or the kiss.

“Uh, I should probably help them clean up out there,” Castiel mumbles, fiddling with disc in his hand. He knows if he even attempts to clear away a dirty dish, Anna will immediately put the kibosh on it, but the unexpected tension of the room makes him want to fill the silence. 

“Yeah, I should let you get to that,” Dean says, glancing around the kitchen. “I was going to get out of here, actually, but if you want me to stick around and help-”

“No, it’s alright,” Castiel interrupts. “I think we've got it.” 

Dean gives him a curious look and nods. “Ok, um… I’ll see you back at the apartment, then.” His eyes linger on Castiel and for a brief second he thinks maybe Dean might kiss him again. Part of him  _ wants _ Dean to kiss him again, just pick up where they left off before Charlie’s interruption. 

Instead, Dean flashes a tight smile and pushes out the kitchen door, leaving Castiel alone, the CD still clenched in his hand. 

 

* * *

 

Castiel sits on his bed, the mix CD playing on repeat for the third time that evening on his laptop. His initial plan had been to put in on low volume while he worked on a book cover due next week, but he found himself increasingly distracted, singing along to the familiar songs and some of the not so familiar ones as well.

Midway through the second listen, he gave up and closed the program, putting his laptop on the dresser and settling on the bed to enjoy the music. Dean had put a lot of thought into his choices, even adding a rare They Might Be Giants song that was one of Castiel’s favorites. The consideration makes him giddy; Dean thought of him, Dean listens to him, Dean cares about him.

Dean is also attracted to him, if the kiss earlier was any indication. 

They hadn’t discussed it. Castiel kept waiting for Dean to say something or maybe go in for another kiss, but he didn't. Since he arrived back home, something had definitely changed between them, though. The air was charged and Dean’s gaze seemed to linger a little longer than before.  

Or maybe not. Maybe this is always how it’s been and Castiel has just been too self-involved to notice. He would’ve noticed, though, right? His mind flashes through past moments with Dean and he can’t quite put a finger on when things changed. If not today, then when?

The opening guitar riffs of “Promises in the Dark” drifts through the speakers. Castiel smiles; he wouldn’t have pegged Dean for a Pat Benatar fan, but it makes sense when he thinks about it. The case sits in his hand and he rereads the playlist for the tenth time that day. Through the wall, he can hear water surging through the pipes followed by the rasp of the shower. 

Castiel feels a familiar wetness between his legs just knowing that Dean is stripping down for a shower. His mouth is a little dry as his imagination continues to paint a fully formed picture of the alpha’s body: his broad shoulders, freckled skin Castiel has seen so many times before, the wonderful softness of his stomach, the swollen stand of his cock with the knot beginning to swell…

Castiel’s squeezes his legs together, his own aroused scent filling the air around him. Pat Benatar's voice shrieks over the high note as Castiel stands and walks to the dresser. He hits the spacebar on the computer, pausing the song. 

Dean’s low baritone mixes with the hiss of the shower spray. Castiel looks at himself in the mirror for a long moment. He lifts his shirt and trails a hand over the stretch marks along the side of his belly, the ones Dean kissed so gently. 

_Why_ _not_ _Dean?_ Castiel has no answer this time. 

He pulls his shirt off all the way, dropping it on the floor as he exits his bedroom.

 

* * *

 

Dean steps out the steamy bathroom, towel draped over his bare shoulders, drying at his hair with a corner. He stops short in the doorway of his room, noticing a shirtless Castiel sitting at the edge of the bed. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean says with a smile, dropping the towel onto the doorknob. “A little early to go to bed, isn't it?” The digital clock on his side table reads 9:23. Usually, Castiel is up working or watching some nature documentary on Netflix until Kimmel starts.

Castiel gives a lazy shrug in response. “I, uh… actually want to ask you for a favor,” he says, looking down at his hands. Dean’s brow furrows in concern, wondering what could’ve happened to make Castiel this nervous.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean says, sitting on the bed next to him. Castiel bites at the corner of his lip, as if trying to summon the nerve to speak.

“I’ve been, lately, very… aroused,” Castiel stammers out, “and I was wondering if maybe… you’d be interested in… having sex… with me?” He looks up at Dean, blue eyes wide and questioning. Dean blinks in surprise, his breath catching in his throat.

He wasn’t expecting  _ this _ .

“Uh, you... what?”

“Do you want to have sex with me?” Castiel asks very deliberately. “I’ve been very wound up lately, hormonal I suppose,  and… I could use a release.” Dean blinks rapidly again, his mind trying to catch up with everything Castiel is saying. He shifts in his seat, his cock already stiffening as he imagines Castiel laid out in bed, naked and eager.

“Are you… Are you sure?” Dean asks. Castiel takes a deep breath and gives him a firm look.

“I am sure. I need this.” The assurance in Cas’ expression flickers and he looks back down at his hands. “I mean, please don't feel obligated. You've already done so much for me and if I'm overstepping a boundary-” Dean places a hand on top of his.

“it's alright, Cas, really.” Castiel lifts his eyes and Dean flashes a warm smile. “ I get it, and… I'm in. Let’s do this.” Castiel blinks a few times, his mouth hanging open. 

“Thank you,” he says with a breathy, relieved laugh.

“So,” Dean drawls out and leans back on his hands. “How should we do this then?” Castiel gives him a confused look and an incredulous snort.

“I was under the impression you’d done this before,” he says. 

“Yeah, yeah, smartass,” Dean replies with an eyeroll. “I mean… Is there anything we should discuss, like in case I do something you don’t like? Safe words, maybe?” Castiel laughs lightly.

“I don't expect us to get that rough, Dean. If there’s something I don’t like, I promise I’ll be very clear about it,” he assures. “And the same goes for you. Just say something.” Dean nods, unsure of what else to do.

“Well, cool. Thank you.” He looks at Castiel, his gaze flicking between blue eyes and dry lips. Dean feels the bed dip beside him as Castiel scoots closer.

“Dean.” His voice comes out barely above a whisper. “Can I kiss you?” Dean’s lips move wordlessly until he can finally push some sort of sound out.

“Yeah,” he says. Castiel starts to move, hesitates for an instant, and then closes the gap between them, pressing his lips against Dean’s. The kiss is slow and tender, more assured than earlier, but just as patient. Dean can scent omega arousal in the air and it causes a prickle to run up his spine. His hands come up, splaying over the smooth skin of Castiel’s back causing him to gasp into Dean’s mouth. Castiel moves into Dean’s embrace, his stomach pressing awkwardly between them. 

“We should, uh, probably get more comfortable,” Dean jokes, but he can’t control the tremor in his voice. Castiel gives a quick nod and rises from the bed. Before Dean can ask what he’s doing, Castiel rolls his maternity briefs down over his hips, letting them fall to the floor. 

“Wow.” The word escapes Dean’s mouth unbidden and Castiel smiles shyly. His eyes trail over Castiel’s body, barer than he has ever seen him before. Castiel takes a step forward and settles back onto the bed, moving to the headboard and leaning back on his elbows.

Dean takes the invitation and crawls up the bed. His mouth meets Castiel’s, tongues winding together as soon as they touch. Castiel shifts onto his side and he directs Dean to do the same. Dean’s hands roam over Castiel’s body as they kiss, learning the rise and fall of each curve and angle. Castiel’s hands slide up the back of Dean’s hair, pulling lightly on the short strands and causing a low growl to rumble in Dean’s throat.

“Good?” Castiel murmurs against his lips. Dean can only nod, not wanting to lose an inch of contact with him. He moves a hand down Castiel’s back and digs his fingers into the meat of his ass. A shudder runs through Castiel and he shifts a thigh between Dean’s legs, rubbing against his thickening cock.

“Fuck,” Dean hisses, the word coming out in a rattle of breath. Dean grabs him by the hips and gingerly flips a pliant Castiel onto his back. Castiel laughs a little and pushes himself up on his elbows, peering over his stomach. Dean flashes a wink as he grabs Castiel’s thighs, parting them as he pulls Cas’ ass toward his face. 

Dean takes in a deep, exaggerated inhale, breathing in the scent of slick and arousal. Dean can feel the throbbing sensation of his knot starting to form and he has to clench his jaw to hold back. Dean dips his head, flattening his tongue against Castiel’s perfect, glistening hole. 

Castiel lets out a sharp gasp, his thighs tensing beneath Dean’s hands and his hole twitching. Dean repeats the movement, delivering smooth, deliberate licks. The rich flavor of Castiel’s slick fills his senses with every press of his tongue, better than he’d imagined. 

“Oh, fuck,” Castiel’s voice comes out in a rush of air. Dean pushes his tongue in further, earning a dribble of slick smeared against his lips. He hums and increases his speed, the muscle moving rapidly against his hole. Dean presses firm hands against Castiel’s shaking thighs, holding him still. Castiel’s cock bobs over his head and Dean has a sudden, wicked idea, lifting his head and taking Castiel’s prick between his lips. Castiel cries out, and all at once he’s coming into Dean’s mouth while a pool of slick forms on the sheet below him. 

“Christ,” Castiel gasps, his body sinking into the mattress. “Fucking…  _ Jesus _ ,  _ Dean _ !” Dean chuckles under his breath, crawling up the bed. He cradles a hand behind Castiel’s head, kissing him soundly, while his other hand smooths down his chest until it rests on the swell of Castiel’s stomach. 

Castiel responds, turning on his side and curling into Dean. Dean flinches as Cas’ hand finds his cock, stroking up the thick shaft, his fingers teasing the beginnings of his knot.

Dean gives a questioning hum against his lips and Castiel winds a leg around Dean in answer, pulling their bodies close. 

“Need you to fuck me, Dean,” Castiel mutters. “Please.” Dean feels a pulse of arousal run through his dick and groans. 

“Sure, Cas,” he mumbles. “How do you want to…”

“On my side.” Castiel flips himself over with unexpected grace, his ass and back toward Dean.  Dean squeezes himself close to Castiel's back, trailing gentle kisses down the smooth line of his throat. Castiel gives a dissatisfied little “hmph” bucking his ass back against Dean’s cock.

“A little bossy aren’t you?” Dean asks. Castiel answers with another grind of his hips and Dean has to press Castiel away to prevent him from spending right then and there. 

Dean takes his cock in hand, positioning the leaking tip right at Castiel’s entrance. He pushes in slowly, his dripping hole giving little resistance and wrapping around Dean’s cock like a glove. Castiel releases the shakiest breath, mumbling near-inaudible curses as Dean presses in. He bottoms out with a low grunt, relishing the feeling of finally being inside Castiel.

Dean rocks into him slowly. He wants to take his time, but right now he's already so close to the edge and Cas’ little moans and pants aren’t helping.

“Harder, Dean,” he groans. “Faster.”

“Christ, Cas,” Dean mutters, doing as he's told. “I'm not going to last.”

“Don't care.” Castiel's words are almost punched out by the thrust of Dean’s hips against his backside. “Want your knot. Need it.” This causes Dean to falter. He hadn't been intending to knot Cas; it wasn't something you usually did with a partner the first time you were together. 

“Cas, I don't… The pup…” Dean hadn't read any of the chapters on pregnancy sex in “What to Expect” and didn't want to possibly injure the pup. Castiel growls unexpectedly and fucks himself back into Dean’s cock.

“S’fine, Dean.” Castiel's words are clipped and frantic. “Won't hurt it.” That's all the guarantee Dean needs as he pistons into Castiel. He holds onto Cas’ hip with one hand as he winds the other beneath him to take hold of Cas’ once-again erect dick. 

Castiel cries out as Dean’s hand moves over the shaft, working in time with his thrusts. His body tenses as he orgasms, spilling watery come over Dean’s hand. Two more slams of his hips and Dean’s knot catches on Castiel's rim, locking them together.

They lie there breathlessly, Dean’s head resting between Castiel's shoulder blades. He can feel intense little kicks against the back of his hand where it rests against Cas’ stomach. 

Dean starts to move his hand away, but is surprised to find Castiel winding their fingers together.

“Thank you,” Cas says, giving his palm a little squeeze. Dean lifts his head and plants a kiss on Castiel's shoulder.

“My pleasure,” Dean says, because…  _ C’mon _ .

“Not as much as mine, I assure you,” Cas replies, a titter of laughter in his voice. “uh, How long is it usually before…”

“About 45 minutes,” Dean says, glad Castiel can't see the blush in his cheeks. He knows knot stamina isn't something to be embarrassed of, but he still feels weird discussing it. “You comfortable? Do you need anything?” Castiel shakes his head and yawns.

“No, I'm good,” he says. “You don't mind if I, um…” He trails off, yawning again and nuzzling a little deeper into his pillow.

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” Dean says. He leans up on an elbow, carefully moving to pull his comforter up over the both of them. He reaches up and switches off his bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. 

After a few minutes, Dean can hear Castiel’s breathing even out. He trails a finger up over his shoulder and up his neck, brushing a few strands of dark hair away from the nape.

“Sleep tight, Cas,” Dean murmurs, settling down to sleep himself.

 

* * *

 

Castiel holds Smithereen against his chest, singing along to the chorus of “Walking on Sunshine” as he dances around Anna and Charlie’s living room. 

“Uh, Castiel?” Anna asks as she steps out of the kitchen and sets out a serving dish on the table. “I don't think the cat likes that.”

“Oh, Smithereen  _ loves _ dancing, don't you?” Smithereen makes a low growl and presses against Castiel’s chest with her paws, clearly trying to get away. “Oh, fine, you brat.” He sets her down on a nearby ottoman and she immediately jumps off and dashes behind the blinds.

“I think it was the singing more than the dancing,” Charlie offers jokingly, setting another plate of food on the dining table. Castiel glares at her and she plucks a cherry tomato from the salad bowl and tosses it at him playfully. “I’m kidding, Castiel, although you have to admit the singing is a little…”

“Odd?” Anna finishes, setting the dinner plates down finally. “You’re in an awfully good mood today.” Anna gives him the same suspicious look she used to when they were kids and Castiel insisted he didn’t eat all the Cocoa Puffs. Castiel flashes her a beaming smile.

“You’re right, I am in a good mood.” He offers a lazy shrug. “I can’t see my toes and I have to pee every half hour, but I honestly feel great.” Anna gives an accepting hum and Charlie chuckles to herself as they take their seats at the table.

“God, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d gotten laid.” As soon as the words leave her mouth, Charlie’s jaw drops open and her eyes widen. “Holy shit, you got laid!”

“What?” Anna gasps, choking on a sip of water. She coughs for a solid minute while Charlie seal-claps happily. 

“Castiel, you didn’t say anything!” Anna finally blurts out when she catches her breath. Castiel sighs deeply and scoops a spoonful of food onto his plate.

“I was planning on telling you at a more appropriate time,” he says, keeping his voice even.

“It’s just the three of us.” Charlie waves her hand around the dining room. “And the cat. No one to be embarrassed in front of.”

“It’s not dinner conversation,” Castiel offers by way of an excuse. The truth is he hadn’t told them yet because he just didn’t want to. The night with Dean had been intense and wonderful and for once,  _ just once,  _ Castiel wanted this thing to remain his, at least for a little while. 

Charlie shakes her head. “Never stopped us before,” she mutters.

“So who is it?” Anna asks, leaning forward conspiratorially. Castiel pauses mid-drink of water at the question. “An alpha?”

“Yes, an alpha,” he admits. “Charlie, this salad is really-”

“Is it someone we know?” Charlie asks.

“It’s not Balthazar, is it, Castiel?” Anna asks with a grimace. “That guy is just…” She shudders a little and Castiel snorts.

“Please don’t say you found some rando off Craigslist?” Charlie says. “Because that’s how you end up in a bathtub, missing a kidney.”

Castiel holds up his hands. “Both of you, stop, please.” he says. “It’s not Craigslist, it’s not Balthazar,  _ or Michael.  _ It’s someone I know and trust. It’s also personal and I don’t want to discuss it.” Anna and Charlie give him twin looks, chewing their food slowly. Anna glances at her mate, saying something with just a look and a smirk.

Anna turns her attention back to Castiel. “It’s Dean, isn’t ?” 

“I knew it,” Charlie says, pointing a finger at Anna. “I fucking knew it! I told you this was going to happen.” She turns her attention back at Castiel. “I cannot believe you are fucking Dean. How long has this been going on?”

“It’s not ‘going on’, It ‘happened,’” Castiel answers. “And, you know, I don’t think the folks in Kansas City heard you. You might want to speak up.”

“Details,” Charlie presses.

Castiel sighs. “I’ve just been feeling a little… spun up, recently.” he waves his hand in the air vaguely. 

“He’s been horny,” Anna offers in a stage whisper.

“Anna!” Castiel groans. “Yes, I’ve been horny. I asked Dean if he could help me out and he obliged. That’s all it was, just a favor between friends.” Silence falls between the three of them, Anna and Charlie both looking at him.

“So will this happen again?” Anna asks. Castiel sighs.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” he says. He’s never been the kind of person to wax poetic about his sex life, but he could certainly come up with some glowing praise for Dean right now. “I’m just playing this by ear … We’ll see.” He catches the hint of a smirk on Anna’s expression, but she doesn’t push further. Charlie frowns, poking at her food. 

“I don’t like it,” she says. She looks up at Castiel, a furrow of worry forming between her brows. “I mean, yeah I’m happy that you’re happy, but, like… what if he poked her in the head?” Anna laughs suddenly at that. “Or she imprints on him and thinks he’s her alpha?”  

“Charlie, have you been reading those message boards again?” Anna asks, placing her hand over her mates. Charlie purses her mouth and looks away, not answering

“There was no head poking,” Castiel assures. At least, he  _ thinks  _ there wasn’t any;  nobody is that well-endowed, right?. “And you know that’s not how the imprinting works. The pup is in a secure little bubble and has no idea who her alpha or omega are. She’s fine.” Charlie still doesn’t look reassured.

“Look you don’t have to worry,” Castiel says. “Just think of this as an extension of… the scenting. As long as I have contact with my alpha, I’m a happy home for your pup.” Charlie sighs and nods but Anna only blinks at Castiel.

“So Dean is your Alpha now, then?” She asks, a coy smile spreading across her face. 

“New topic,” Castiel blurts out, waving his hand in the air. “Moving on.” 

 

* * *

 

Sam notices is as soon as they sit down in the booth.

“You smell different,” he mumbles, opening the menu and glancing over their options. 

“What?” Dean asks, trying to raise his voice over the noise of the diner’s lunch rush.

“I said that you smell different,” Sam repeats, meeting Dean’s gaze. “Like omega.”

Dean snorts. “Uh, I live with an omega, Sam,” he reminds him. Sam shakes his head.

“No, no, this is different.” Sam sets the menu aside and folds his arms in front of him on top of the table. “You’ve smelled like Castiel for awhile, I know what he smells like. This is different.” A waitress comes over and sets  two glasses of water in front of them. Dean catches a vague scent of ripe omega off of her, and while he should find it pleasant, he can’t help wrinkling his nose a little at the cloying odor. 

“What do you mean ‘different?’” Dean asks. “Stronger?” Sam shrugs and takes a packet of crunchy breadsticks from the basket on the table. 

“I don’t know, it’s just… different.”  It’s clear Sam is struggling with the right word. “It almost smells like-” Sam stops himself short and shakes his head. Dean’s easy expression drops.

“Like what?”

“I’m probably just imagining things,” Sam says with a forced laugh. “Don’t worry about it.” He waves a hand in the air. “So, what’s going on man? How’s work?” Dean let’s the topic drop, but Sam’s unsaid words linger in the back of his head. He knows exactly what Sam was going to say.

_ You smell mated. _

Dean knows it’s ridiculous, but it doesn’t stop his nose from playing tricks on him, picking his own scent off of Castiel’s skin that evening as he pushes inside him. They fuck in the living room, Castiel kneeling backwards on the sofa, begging for Dean’s hands and mouth. Dean can’t resist sucking a faint bruise at the crook of Castiel’s neck, marking him as his, if only temporarily. They come together, Dean’s arms wrapped around Cas’ chest, his back cracking with the force of his orgasm.  

He doesn’t knot him this time, but he does pull a pliable Castiel back into the bedroom and eats him out until he’s screaming Dean’s name and coming harder than before. 

“What are you thinking about?” Castiel asks as they lay curled together in bed. Dean exhales softly; there are so many ways to answer that: how comfortable this feels, how the due date is only a handful of weeks away and what that means, how painful he already knows Castiel’s absence will be. 

“Nothing,” Dean replies, tightening an arm around Cas’ shoulders as he shuts his eyes. 


	8. Chapter 8

“You have the resort address, right?” Charlie asks.

“Yes,” Castiel says with some exasperation.

“And you have the numbers to Doctor Shurley and the clinic.”

“Yes, Charlie,” he insists

“I texted you when your next appointment is, you have our insurance info and both our cell phones, my work cell,” Charlie continues, ticking off on her fingers. Anna places a hand in her arm.

“Charlie, we should really get going if we want to beat traffic,” She says. Charlie looks from her mate to Castiel, who holds Smithereen in his arms.

“We're only a few hours away,” Charlie says finally. “If anything happens, _anything,”_ she stresses the word, “just call us and we'll be on our way.”

“I know,” Castiel says as reassuringly as possible. “Go, enjoy your babymoon. Relax and go be a couple.” Charlie smiles gratefully, giving Castiel a tight hug.

“Love you, Castiel,” Anna says when she hugs him. He waves goodbye from the doorway, watching them retreat down the hall before going back inside.

“Charlie’ nervous, huh?” Dean calls from the kitchen. Castiel hums in agreement, setting Smithereen down on the carpet before joining Dean.

The whole apartment smells amazing, the air filled with the scent of grilling meat and onions. When Castiel had mentioned he was craving burgers, he expected maybe something from the nearby diner, not Dean putting his culinary expertise to work and whipping up the most mouthwatering cheeseburger Castiel has ever smelled.

 _“I can make a burger,”_ Dean had said. _“You want a burger, I'll make you one that will make you weep.”_

Castiel was already on the verge of tears, the aroma of the cooking food causing his stomach to growl and the pup to kick enthusiastically.

“I think the reality of the situation is settling in,” Castiel offers, leaning against the counter that separated the kitchen and the living room. “it's finally hitting her that, in less than a month, she's going to have her daughter.”

“Two weeks,” Dean corrects, and Castiel could swear he see the hint of a frown tugging at Dean’s mouth.

“I could always go overdue,” Castiel says. “Being full term only means that the pup would be fine if it were born right now.” Dean smiles and nods. Smithereen rubs and nuzzles against Castiel’s leg and he reaches down with some effort to a scratch at her head.

“At least Anna’s pretty relaxed through all of this,” Dean says over the hiss and sizzle as he flips the burger.

“Just wait,” Castiel replies with a soft chuckle. “She has it all together now, but once that pup is born, her anxiety will go into overdrive. She's storing up everything like a chipmunk.” Castiel pushes off the counter and moves to glance past Dean to the stove.

“So what makes your burgers so special?” he asks. Dean turns his head toward Castiel and gives him a wink.

“It's a secret. If I told you, I'd have to kill you,” he replies in a conspiratorial whisper. “No, it's just season salt and crushed peppercorns, but these are a little fancier than I usually make them. Uh, can you hand me that plate?”

“How so?” Castiel asks, grabbing a plate from the counter and passing it to Dean.

“These are white cheddar and poblano stuffed burgers, served with homemade seasoned steak fries.” Dean steps back from the stove to open the oven and check on the fries.

“Good lord, I think I need an antacid just thinking about that,” Castiel groans, even though his mouth is already watering for the food.

“I hope it's good,” Dean says, plating the burgers. “I'm new to this whole stuffed burger thing.”

“I'm sure it will be wonderful, Dean,” Castiel says smiling at the him. He's had people cook for him before, but with Dean the act felt like something far more intense than it should've been and that knowledge makes Castiel a little breathless.

He watches Dean put their food together, artfully stacking the burgers and garnish on pretzel buns, adding a heaping mountain of fries to each plate.

“This is way more calories than I need,” Castiel mumbles, wide eyed, as Dean sets the plate down in front of him at the dining table.

“Well, you _are_ eating for two,” Dean counters, taking the spot to Castiel’s left.

Castiel grimaces. “Technically, it's one and one half.” He says. Dean looks at him flatly.

“You need 300 extra calories per day,” he says, once again quoting that damn pregnancy book, “And it should be more for you, since I know you’re doing yoga at least 90 minutes per day.”

“Yoga doesn’t burn that many-”

“Eat the damn burger, Cas,” Dean says with an affectionate sigh. “You have nothing to worry about. I promise.” Castiel gives a half smile and picks up the burger, Dean watching him hopefully. He groans obscenely as he takes his first bite. The smoky flavor of the meat with the savory combination of the peppers and the cheese exploding in his mouth.

“Jesus,” Castiel gasps out as he chews, going for his second bite before he’s even swallowed his first.

“Good, then?” Dean asks with a chuckle, picking up his own burger. Castiel can only nod, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back as he savors his food.

They eat without much conversation, only noises of enjoyment and and brief questions about each other's day. Castiel has to make himself slow down, carefully chewing every morsel and appreciating the unique combination of flavors. He catches Dean watching him a few times, his eyes dancing with amusement before turning back to his own food.

As Castiel finishes eating, he feels Dean’s eyes on him once more, but something in his gaze has shifted, growing more intense and scrutinizing.

“What?” Castiel asks, popping a fry in his mouth. Dean doesn’t says anything, just licks at his lips as he reaches over and draws a thumb along Castiel’s mouth, from the corner to the bottom. Castiel freezes, the gentle grip of Dean’s fingers over his jaw keeping him in place. His hand is warm and Castiel finds himself leaning into the touch.

“You had something.” Dean’s voice comes out as a harsh whisper. Without thinking, Castiel parts his lips, taking the pad of Dean’s thumb between them and sucking a bit of sauce off of it. He hears Dean’s breath catch and the sudden spike of alpha arousal in the air causes a shiver to run down his back.

“It’s good,” Castiel says, pulling away and licking at his lips shyly. It’s a teasing move, Castiel knows, but he plans on following through, at least. Dean’s gaze doesn’t waver from him and his green eyes darken as the air around them grows thick with their mixed scents.

Dean reaches out, brushing his knuckles across the soft stubble of Castiel’s cheek. He draws his thumb over his lips once more, slower and more deliberate this time. Dean’s fingers dig a little deeper into the skin along his jaw and Castiel sucks the thumb into his mouth,  letting his teeth and tongue graze along the calloused pad.

With a low growl and a squeak of a chair, Dean pushes forward, his mouth replacing the digit. He pulls Castiel to his feet, food forgotten, and kisses him like a man starving.  

Castiel lets himself be led around the room and pushed against the fridge, kissing Dean back as much as he is able. Dean’s hand runs over his stomach and dips into his yoga pants without warning.

“Fuck!” Castiel hisses out as Dean takes hold of his cock. His hand moves smoothly over the shaft, working him to full hardness. Castiel gasps in pleasure and a dribble of slick runs down his shaking thigh, soaking through his yoga pants. Castiel extends his neck to the side and Dean’s lips latch onto it, sucking and nipping at the tender skin. Castiel’s hands wind in the fabric of Dean’s flannel overshirt, drawing him closer.

“Want you,” Dean pants. “Bedroom. Now.”

“No, here,” Castiel says, surprised by the carnal growl in his own voice. Dean pulls back, his chest rising and falling fast as he gives Castiel a questioning look.

“Here?” Dean asks. “The kitchen?” A wry grin plays at Castiel lips and he leans in to whisper in Dean’s ear.

“Bend me over the counter and fuck me,” he orders. A low rumble comes up from Dean’s throat. He takes Castiel by the wrists and gingerly manhandles him over the sink. Castiel rests his forearms on opposite sides of it, supporting himself as Dean rolls the cotton pants off his hips.

“Fucking amazing,” he hears Dean murmur, although he has a feeling it wasn’t meant for him to hear. Dean smooths a hands over Castiel’s ass then dips two fingers into the slick wet heat. Castiel moans in response as Dean works his hand in an out, crooking his fingers intermittently, causing a jolt of pleasure to zip through him.

“Dean, yes,” Castiel gasps, pushing back on Dean’s fingers, needing more. Dean’s lips trail up the back of his neck as he inserts another finger, the burn just enough to cause Castiel to whimper.

Dean pulls his hand away unexpectedly. He glances over his shoulder, ready to protest, but catches sight of a still dressed Dean pulling out his thick, red cock, stroking it absently. Castiel turns back with an impish grin, feeling the head of Dean’s cock resting against his ass. He wastes no time, pushing in with a grunt; Castiel let’s out an unholy noise in response. Dean blankets himself over Castiel’s back, rubbing his unshaved chin against his shoulder.

“Move, Dean, Dammit,” Castiel groans. He can feel Dean nod against his skin as he drags his cock out out and slams back into Castiel. Castiel settles his weight against the counter, his body jerking with Dean’s thrusts. Dean’s arms wraps across his chest, holding him steady as he fucks him. The pace isn’t as hard as Castiel would want, but it’s steady and Castiel finds himself close to his orgasm. He lets out a guttural moan and lets his head flop forward. Dean’s pace quickens, his thrusts growing uneven. He can feel the initial swell of Dean’s knot at his rim and Dean pulling away.

“Fucking knot me!” Castiel demands.

“We should move to the bedroom first.” Dean protests.

“No, here. Now!” Castiel says, looking over his shoulder. He doesn’t know why the idea of getting knotted against the counter appeals to him, but right now it’s all he wants. “Please.” Dean’s expression still looks hesitant.

“Seriously, Cas, can we at least move to the living room?” Castiel frowns deeply. “You can ride me.” That causes his expression to perk up. He gives a tight nod and Dean pulls out.

Castiel lets his bottoms drop to the floor and he and Dean hurry to the other room. Dean steps out of his jeans and reclines back on the couch, attempting a seductive look that sends Castiel into a giggle fit.

“What?” Dean asks. “I'm trying to set the mood.”

“It's fine,” Castiel says, tamping down another laugh and straddling Dean’s lap with one leg anchored on the floor. He inhales sharply as he sinks down onto Dean, the position causing his cock to drive deeper than ever before.

“You alright?” Dean asks,  rubbing his hands up and down Castiel's thighs. He nods as he starts to ride Dean’s dick. He's careful about not coming down too hard as they fuck, Dean’s cock hitting deep enough within him to be slightly painful.

“Oh fuck,” Dean breathes out, his fingers digging into Castiel's quad. “That's it, baby, just like that. Christ, Cas!” Castiel smiles and rocks forward causing Dean to let out a low groan. He can feel his orgasm approaching and picks up his pace, Dean’s knot beginning to catch once more.

“Christ, Cas, right there,” Dean grunts. His hand moves from his thigh and takes hold of Castiel's cock just as he comes. Castiel's head falls back with a low moan and he fucks down onto Dean until his knot finally catches and he's spilling hard and hot inside of him.

Dean works his hand over Castiel’s shaft until he's over sensitive and twitching. Castiel slumps to the side, resting his head against the back of the couch, smiling down at the alpha beneath him.

“Good?” He asks. Dean grins and carefully pushes himself up onto his hands.

“Beyond good. Amazing.” Dean cups a hand around Castiel's head and pulls him in for a deep kiss. “Now aren't you glad I insisted we moved out of the kitchen?” Castiel purses his mouth to the side.

“Yeah, sure,” he admits with a nod. Dean pecks him on the lips sweetly before laying back on the couch once more. He gazes over Castiel’s body thoughtfully, rubbing hands up his legs before lifting the edge of his shirt tentatively.

“You have a thing for my bump,” Castiel points out, only half-joking. Whenever they are in bed together, Dean’s hands are drawn to his stomach as if by a magnet. Dean chuckles lightly, smoothing his hands in circles over the swell of Castiel’s stomach.

“I just think it’s neat,” Dean says. “You’re growing person. I can’t do that shit.” Castiel shrugs. A couple sudden kicks against Dean’s hand surprise him and earn an amused hum.

“She’s more active… uh, after,” Castiel explains. Dean gently presses two fingers against the spot where an appendage is pushing.

“She’s probably mad that I keep poking her,” Dean says. “ Don't worry, kid, only a couple more weeks and you’ll be done with me.” Castiel’s smile falters; he knows Dean was talking to the pup, but the words hit him in the gut. He doesn’t want to be done with Dean. He wants to talk to Dean and ask him if maybe they continue… whatever the hell this is after the pup comes. He doesn’t expect to stay here in Dean’s home, rent free. He could get his own place, of course, God knows he’d get a great deal compared to the rent in Denver.

They could just explore this thing and see if what he feels between the two of them is really there.

Castiel can’t escape this needling doubt in the back of his brain, though, that Dean will say no. Worse still, he might say yes out of some sort of obligation and then be stuck with Castiel against his will.

“Hey,” Dean murmurs. “You with me?” Castiel glances down at him, feeling the early prickle of tears in his eyes. Dean’s hands close over his, thumbs running over his knuckles.

“Yeah… Just tired, I guess.” Castiel forces a smile, meeting Dean’s affectionate expression. Dean pushes up again until he’s in a sitting position. He places a hand on the back of Castiel’s neck, pulling him forward until his head is resting on Dean’s shoulder.

“You relax,” Dean mumbles. “I’ve got you.” Castiel lets his eyes slip closed as Dean turns on the TV and soon he finds himself drifting off over the sound of canned laughter.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, Dean gets the call.

He's in he middle of expense reports when his cell phone goes off. He swiped across the screen, cutting off the opening chords of “blister in the sun.”

“What's going on, Cas?” He answers.

“Uh… Dean?” There's distress in Castiel's voice and it instantly puts Dean on alert. “Uh… I think I'm in labor.” Dean almost knocks his desk chair over as he bolts upright.

“What?! Really?” he squawks.

“Yeah,” Castiel replies. “I mean I think so. My water hasn't broken yet. These could be Braxton Hicks -ooh!” Castiel groans in pain and Dean feels the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“I'm coming home,” Dean states, already around his desk, grabbing his jacket and messenger bag. “You're going to be ok, Cas. Just breathe, ok?” Castiel huffs into the phone rhythmically like they taught in his class. As soon as he lets out a long relieved exhale, Dean is sure it's passed.

“Um, do you know how far apart they are?” he asks. He knows it's important when he contractions are ten minutes apart, but he has no idea on how to gauge how quickly they get to that point.

“I don't know,” Castiel mutters. “20 minutes, maybe.” Dean lets out a relieved exhale.

“Have you called Charlie and Anna?”

“I tried,” Castiel says. “No answer. They might be out of range.” Dean nods and scribbles out a quick note for Zachariah saying he has a family emergency and has to go. If he catches flack for leaving without notice, so be it.

He has Castiel on the phone all the way down the stairs and into the parking garage.

“Cas, I'll be home as soon as I can. I'm getting in my car right now.”

“Okay.” Dean digs his fingernails into the steering wheel of the impala at the low tremor of fear in Castiel’s voice.

“I'm on my way,” Dean reassures. “Do you want me to call Sam and Jess to be there with you?”

“Yes,” Castiel says.

“Okay. Okay.” Dean nods, feeling a small semblance of relief that he can at least do that. “I'm hanging up now and calling Sam. I'll call you back as soon as I get off the line.”

Sam is at work when he calls but agrees without hesitation to swing by the apartment with Jessica. Dean thanks his brother and makes a mental note to buy him a case of that fancy maple beer he likes.

Dean zips through traffic, trying to not break too many laws. He skids to a stop on the curb in front of his apartment, Sam’s Charger already parked in his space. He takes the stairs two at a time and is met with his front door swinging open, a panicked-looking Sam in the doorway.

“His water just broke,” he blurts out. Dean’s eyes go wide and he looks past Sam. Jess is next to Castiel, rubbing small circles in his back. Castiel is arched over the counter, taking measured breaths in and out through the contraction.

“Cas?” Castiel lifts his head and offers a pained smile. Dean is at his side in two long strides.

“Hello, Dean,” he says. “I think I need to get to the hospital.”

“Yeah, yeah, we should do that.” Dean looks up at Sam. “Can you drive us in my car?”

“Yeah, totally,” Sam says. “Jess can follow in ours.” They leave the apartment en masse, Dean carefully holding a supportive arm around Castiel’s waist as they descend the stairs. He tosses Sam his car keys and slips into the backseat with Castiel.

“You doing ok?” Dean asks. Castiel offers a worn smile and a nod.

“Which hospital?” Sam asks as he turns the ignition.

“St. Luke’s,” Castiel says, “on Veterans Parkway.” Sam nods without question and pulls the Impala out of the apartment complex. Dean reaches down and takes Castiel’s hand, giving it a small squeeze. Castiel glances at him plaintively.

“Dean?” he asks.

“We’ll be there real soon, Cas,” he whispers. He feels the weight of Castiel’s head settling onto his shoulder and without thinking, turns his head to press a kiss to his forehead. For a moment, Dean catches a questioning look from his brother in the rearview mirror, but turns away, focusing his attention back on the omega in his arms instead.

 

* * *

 

The ride to the hospital takes longer than it should’ve, the late afternoon traffic slowing them down. Castiel is clearly in immense pain, if the bitter tang to his scent is any indication, but he remains strangely calm and quiet the entire trip, save for an occasional sharp gasp.

Dean keeps Castiel's fingers wound in his, brushing his thumb over his knuckles and resisting the urge to scream at Sam to go faster.

Dean looks at Castiel, who's preoccupied with his phone, timing his contractions.

“Have you tried calling Charlie again?” Sam asks, eyes locked on the road in front of him. Castiel looks up at Dean, a silent request that he do it.

“Yeah, uh… Let me call them again really quick.” Dean pulls out his phone and dials her cell phone. There's no answer once again and Dean leaves a message.

“Uh, hi Charlie and Anna. It's Dean.” He clears his throats nervously. “So, uh, Castiel went into labor earlier and his water broke. We’re driving him to St. Luke's right now. His contractions are, uh…” He glances at Castiel with a questioning look twisting the phone away from his mouth.

“13 minutes,” Castiel answers. Dean’s eyebrows fly to his hairline.

“13 minutes? Really? That fast?” He moves the phone back to talk. “13 minutes, so… You probably want to get back here ASAP. Call me when you get this. Bye.”

“Why do you think they're not picking up?” Sam asks as Dean hangs up.

“Probably can't get reception,” Castiel says, his voice a little hoarser than normal, no doubt from the effort. “They're at some ski resort.” Sam nods and continues driving.

Dean is out of the car like a flash as soon as they pull up to the front door of the hospital. He grabs Castiel’s hospital bag from the trunk and then moves to help him up out of the backseat.

Sam announces that he's going to park the Impala and then bring back the keys but Dean is too focused on Castiel to manage much more than an acknowledging wave.

Dean shoulders the bag and follows as Cas waddles toward the entrance.

“Do you want me to grab a wheelchair or an attendant?” Dean asks, noticing the tight grimace on Castiel's face.

He shakes his head. “No, no I can walk,” he says. “We just need to get to- _ooh!”_ Castiel stops abruptly in the middle of the crosswalk, hands gripping around his stomach.

“Cas!” Dean feels the blood rush from his face as he wraps a hand around Cas’ back. “What’s going on? Another contraction?” Castiel nods his head vigorously.

Dean murmurs a few encouragements as he tries to help Castiel cross the road. He sighs in relief when he spots men dressed in pale blue scrubs running out the automatic door toward them, one of them pushing a wheelchair.

“He's in labor,” Dean says as soon as they are within earshot. “And his water broke about, uh… 30 minutes ago.” One of the attendants helps Castiel into a wheelchair while the other looks at Dean.

“Are you the alpha parent?”

“Uh…”

“Yes, he's with me,” Castiel says, taking Dean’s hand and squeezing it painfully. Dean’s caught  off guard by the response, but before he can say anything he and Castiel are being whisked into the hospital while attendants and nurses bombard them with questions.

It takes less than an hour to get situated in a room, or “birthing suite” as the staff members keep referring to it.

A suite it definitely is- the hardwood floors and fixtures, soft lighting, and warm colors are a harsh contrast from the emergency rooms Dean remembers from his youth and even the hospital room from a couple months ago.  

“It’s to help make labor as comfortable as possible,” a petite beta nurse offers, her dark curls twisted into a bun at the back of her head. She flashes Dean a smug smile, proud to have anticipated his question. “Although, let’s be real, there’s nothing comfortable about labor.”

Castiel snorts and nods, already looking drained from his last contraction. Dean sits on the sofa near the window, at a loss for anything else to do, while the nurse fiddles with tubes and monitors.

“So this your first, Clarence,” the nurse asks as she makes a mark on a chart.

“It’s Castiel, actually,” he answers. “Uh… yes, I’m actually a surrogate for my sister. It’s her pup” The nurse looks back at Dean.

“Well, that’s sweet.” She glances back to Dean. “And you must be Daddy?” Dean opens his mouth to protest, although he’s not sure how to explain it- Bio Alpha? Scent Bonded to the Surrogate? Enjoying the brunt of the hormone-fueled pregnancy sex?

“Dean’s a friend,” Castiel offers and flashes Dean a warm smile. Dean can’t deny the way his heart sinks a little bit, but he immediately tamps down the feeling.

“Well, I’m Meg,” she offers. “I’m your nurse tonight. I’ll be checking in on you.  If you need anything, just press the call button.” she picks up the massive remote attached with a cord to the bed. Castiel mumbles a thank you and takes it from her, switching on the TV.

“Dr. Shurley should be by in a couple minutes,” Meg continues. “Since you’re water has already broken and your contractions are pretty regular, he’s probably going to want you to get an internal monitor.” Dean’s phone suddenly goes off.

“It's Charlie,” Dean says. “Do you want to talk to her right now or…” Castiel shakes his head, zoning out as best he can, watching the images on the screen.

“Hi Charlie,” Dean answers as he steps out into the hallway to escape the noise. He notices a gaggle of hospital staff led by Dr. Shurely pass him, entering the room just after he leaves.

“Dean, oh my God!” Charlie practically screams into the phone. “I just got your messages! Holy shit, Castiel is in labor and he's early and-”

“Charlie, it's fine,” Dean says gently, even if he feels about as tense as Charlie seems. “Castiel is full term, the pup is going to be fine. The doctor is checking up on him right now-”

“We’re in our way home!” Charlie cuts him off. “We can be there in two hours if we speed the entire way.” In the background, Dean can hear Anna’s comforting murmur and a soft demand that Charlie breathe.

“Don't be reckless,” Dean says. “Is Anna driving?”

“Yes,” he hears Anna call out; he must be over the Hands free. “How's Castiel doing? How far apart are the contractions?”

“Last I counted about ten minutes,” Dean replies. “They’re hooking up a monitor.”

“Well, take good care of him, Dean,” Charlie says, a wry note in her voice. “And you tell him to hold that pup in as long as possible.”

“I'll make sure he knows,” Dean says, forcing a soft laugh. “You two drive safe and get here in one piece, ok? You're having a pup.” Charlie lets out a watery laugh and bids Dean a goodbye, right after he promises to text with any updates.

As he hangs up, Dean spots Sam out of the corner of his eye, towering above everyone else as he strides down the hall.

“About time you got here,” he gripes as Sam passes him the keys.

“Sorry, it took forever to find a spot and then once I got inside, I had no idea where to go.” Sam sighs. “I don't even know Castiel’s last name.” Dean makes an annoyed noise but let's it slide.

“You're not in the room with Castiel?” Sam asks.

“Nah, he's got his doctors and nurses everywhere around him.” Dean gives a half-shrug. “I'd just be in the way. I'll go back inside in a minute.”

“So this is really happening, then?” Sam asks, flashing an eager grin and exhaling through his teeth.

“Yeah, pup’s coming,” Dean replies, scratching at the back of his head. It seems so surreal that, in a short while, what is essentially his daughter will be out in the world.

“Guess that means Castiel will be moving out soon,” Sam says. Deal freezes for a moment at that.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he mutters out too fast, averting his gaze from Sam’s. It's not like he didn't know that was coming; Castiel’s staying with him always hinged on the care of the pup. If Castiel is no longer pregnant, what reason does he have to stay with Dean?

“I better get back in there and see how he's doing,” Dean offers as an excuse and hooks his thumb toward the room.

“Yeah, I should get back downstairs to Jess,” Sam replies. He bids his brother goodbye and walks back to Cas’ room.

Most of the staff have left save for Meg, who is making a mark on a clipboard.

“How you doing?” Dean asks. Castiel offers a wan smile and a shrug.

“Apparently, I'm only dilated 5 cm,” he offers.

“And you need to be at what? 10 right?” Dean asks. “Well, that's not too much farther.” Meg lets out a caustic laugh.

“You have a while to go,” she says. “Lay back, relax. Do you need anything?”

“Food?” Castiel looks up at her miserably.

“Not during active labor, Clarence,” she replies regretfully, “but I can get you some ice chips.” Castiel frowns deeply but nods. Dean pulls a chair up to the side of the bed as Meg walks out.

“I talked to Charlie.”

“Is she freaking out?” Castiel asks as he settles back into the raised hospital bed.

“Just a little,” Dean replies. “She and Anna should be here soon.” He reaches out and takes Castiel's hand.

“Cas, I just want to say-” rapid high-pitched beeps cut him off and Castiel suddenly tenses.

“What's that? What's going on?” Dean stammers out, practically jumping to his feet.

“Contraction,” Castiel hisses. “It the fetal monitor- Shit!” Castiel's grip tightens over his hand and Dean drops back into the chair.

“Uh, ok, breathe,” Deans says, quickly trying to recall all the information he can remember from the hypno birth class. “Um, in for 2 counts, out for one.” Castiel flashes him a frustrated glare but follows his guidance, breathing in time.

Castiel’s fingernails dig into Dean’s palm, breathing in and out with some force. The monitor grows faster, then peaks and slows. Castiel collapses back onto the bed, releasing Dean’s hand.

“Sorry,” Castiel mumbles as Dean shakes out his fingers.

“Hey, I've handled worse,” he offers with a reassuring smile. Castiel manages one as well just as Meg walks back in with a plastic pitcher and cup of ice chips.

“Here you go.” She sets them on the tray next to the bed. “How are you doing?”

“He just had a contraction,” Dean blurts out. Meg hums and walks around the bed to the monitor, glimpsing at a printout below the machine.

“Sure did,” she says. “How are you handling the pain?” She glances at Castiel, her expression showing a hint of sympathy that looks a little foreign on her features.

“Fine,” Castiel answers, less than convincing.

“Scale of one to ten, one being no pain, ten being-”

“Six,” he replies quickly. Dean’s brows fly to his hairline. If that was only a six, he can't imagine what ten is going to look like.

Meg nods, makes a note on Castiel’s chart and reminds him once more to hit the call button if he needs anything.

Castiel takes the ice cup with some relief, turning his attention back to the TV. He crunches noisily but then stops, giving Dean a questioning look and nodding toward the screen.

“Oh… Uh, whatever you want to watch.” Dean gestures toward the TV and settles back into his chair. Castiel smiles and flips through the channels.

The next hour and a half follows the same pattern of Castiel huffing through a contraction and Dean doing his best to be supportive.

“You can do this,” he encourages, “Focus on your breathing and… uh… your center?” Castiel gasps a heavy, forced puff of air.

“I can’t!” he grunts out, shaking his head violently. “I can't do this, I can't do this. It's too much.”

Dean blinks blankly and glances around. “Um… Ok, do you want me to get the nurse or-”

“I want an epidural!” Castiel practically screams with surprising clarity. Dean jumps to his feet, almost knocking the chair over, and bolts toward the door. As he jerks it open, he practically bowls into the nurse Meg.

“Whoa, there!” Meg exclaims, hands out in front of her.

“Hi, um, Castiel is in too much pain,” Dean stammers out, a growl edging at his voice. “He wants the drugs.”

“Take it down a notch, alpha,” Meg offers with a smile, patting his arm. “We can take care of him. Let me get Doctor Shurley.”

Dean wants to believe her reassurance, but the room is soaked in the scent of omega pain and alpha stress and it only causes his hackles to rise further.

Dean stands by helplessly, watching as they administer the epidural. Castiel grits his teeth, a whimper of pain in his throat as they insert the needle into his back. Dr. Shurley’s voice is calm and reassuring, explaining every step as he goes, but it does nothing to calm the sick feeling in Dean’s gut every time Castiel cringes.

The drugs, thankfully, hit Castiel’s bloodstream pretty quickly. His whole body seems to uncoil, every ounce of tension draining away.

“Better?” Dean asks, approaching the bed. Cas’ eyes slip closed and a wide toothy grin spreads across his face.

“Epidurals are effin’ awesome!” He sighs. A laugh bubbles up through Dean.

“So happily stoned, then?” he asks, settling on the side of the bed next to him. Castiel blinks his eyes open, clear and lucid.

“Not stoned, just… numb from the waist down.” Dean reaches out to run a hand through Castiel’s hair, but he grabs Dean’s wrists.

“C’mere,” Castiel says, pulling at Dean’s arm. It takes second for Dean to realize that Castiel wants him to lay next to him in bed.

“Um, ok,” he says as Castiel nuzzles under his arm, resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. “You need the scenting?”

“No,” Castiel says quietly as he pulls Dean’s other arm across his middle. “Just you.”

 

* * *

 

Dean isn't sure who dozed off first or when, but he's awoken by his phone going off.

“Charlie?” He mumbles as he sits up, extracting himself from Cas’ hold.

“Dean,” she practically shouts in his ear. “We're here. We're at the hospital. What room number?”

“605,” Dean says. Charlie mumbles a thank you and the line goes dead. Dean turns to see a sleepy and rumpled Castiel starting to sit up.

“Sorry I woke you up,” Dean says, but Castiel waves him off.

“No, I've been awake for awhile,” he admits, rubbing a hand over his stomach. “I think it's getting close.”

“Charlie and Anna are on their way up,” Dean offers with a smile and Castiel nods. The door opens and Dr. Shurely strolls in, followed by a couple other staff members in blue scrubs.

“Hey there, Castiel,” he says as he approaches the bed. “We're just going to check on your progress.” Dean busies himself with his phone as a crowd of doctors and nurses arranges themselves around Castiel. He has no idea how Castiel can answer their questions so calmly. He knows that if a half dozen people were staring and poking at his junk, he'd be too uncomfortable to form a sentence.

“Well, looks like it's almost time to push,” Dr. Shurley says. “We’ll get you set up and ready to go. Just hang tight.”

“I can't do much else,” Castiel replies with a deadpan expression. Dr. Shurley turns to Dean.

“If you want to follow Ephraim over there, we can get you some scrubs.”

“Wait… What?” Dean asks.

“Well if you’re the birthing partner, you’ll need to be-” he’s cut off by the slap of footsteps coming down the hall and Charlie sliding to the door, _Risky Business_ style.

“We're here!” She announces, as Anna walks up behind her calmly. “We made it. We made it.”

“How are you doing? How's your pain?” Charlie asks Castiel as they squeeze past the staff to his side.

“It's fine, I uh… I got the drugs.” He looks at his sister apologetically. “I'm sorry Anna. I know you wanted a natural birth, but I-”

“Oh Castiel, it's fine, really,” Anna brushes a hand through his mussed hair. “My biggest concern is you. Hell, if you needed to be passed out to do this-”

“Ladies, I hate to interrupt,” Dr. Shurely says, “but we need to know who is going to stay in the room during labor.”

“I am,” Dean says at the same time as Anna and Charlie say “we are.”

“We can only have two in the room,” Meg says, somewhat reluctantly. Anna and Charlie glance at Dean and then to Castiel, whose hands are gripped together. Charlie blinks a couple times as. Opens her mouth but then closes it again, clearly trying to find the words she needs.

“I'll step out,” Dean says when he sees Charlie and Anna struggling to ask him to leave. He flashes an encouraging smile at Castiel and then leans down and pressss a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” he says. He gives Charlie's arm a squeeze and nods to Anna’s mouthed “thank you” as he steps out of the room.

Dean slumps down into an uncomfortable chair in the nearby waiting area, letting his head fall back against the wall.

He’s tired, so so tired. Physically, yes, but even more so mentally. He hasn't been able to shake Sam’s words from earlier or the knowledge that Castiel will be moving out in … What? A few days? A week, maybe?

A few seats down from him, a woman turns and stares at Dean. He realizes that he's growling unconsciously.

“Sorry,” he mutters as the woman shifts a few seats further away. Dean sighs; he can admit that he hates the thought of losing Cas, but he hates even more the way he's already reacting to the loss.

He and Cas aren't mated, hell, he doesn't even know if they can be called friends with benefits, so why the hell is he mourning Cas’ absence like he's dying.

 _Because_ _what_ _if_ _Cas_ _doesn't_ _want_ _you_ _anymore_ _without_ _the_ _pup?_ Dean grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against the unwelcome thought. Reality hits him like a punch in the gut; He wants Castiel to be his mate. For once in his life, he seriously wants a life and a home and…

Fuck, he wants a family with the guy! And he has no idea if Castiel even wants the same thing.

Cas asked Dean once why he didn't have a mate and Dean had never had the nerve to find out the same thing from him. It would’ve hurt too much to hear Castiel say he doesn't want a mate or pups. At least when Castiel was in his bed, in Dean’s arms, he could pretend it wasn't any other way.

Now though, he'd have to face the truth, no matter how much it hurts.

He gets lost in his thoughts, not realizing how much time has passed, until he hears footsteps approaching him.

“Dean?” He looks up to see Charlie in scrubs, her smile bright enough to light up the entire ward. “She’s here!”

“Really?” Dean asks, sitting up and putting on a happy face. Charlie nods enthusiastically.

“Yep, Claire Celeste Bradbury-Milton arrived... 22 minutes ago,” Charlie says, glancing at her watch.

“Claire Celeste Bradbury-Milton.” Dean forms each word carefully as he says it. “Well, that's a helluva mouthful.”

“We’re going to call her CC for short,” Charlie offers.

“Then why not just name her CC to begin with?” Dean asks, raising an eyebrow. Charlie spares him a brief, sardonic look.

“I’m kidding, Charlie,” Dean says as he rises from the chair and embraces her in a bear hug. “Congratulations on your pup.”

“She’s a miracle,” Charlie gushes, hugging Dean back tightly. “A genuine fucking miracle!” Dean laughs and Charlie does the same. She pulls back from the hug and looks at him, biting her lip with tears glittering in her eyes.

“Dean,” She begins and then stops, licking at her lips nervously. “I just want to say that… You’ve been… You’ve been really awesome during all of this.”

“Charlie.” Dean tries to interrupt, but she puts up a hand, cutting him off.

“You have,” she continues. She takes a breath, gathering her self. “Anna and I wouldn’t be here without you, no, don’t give me that look. We wouldn’t. And the way you talked me off the ledge, so to speak, and how you’ve been there for Castiel… You went above and beyond.” Dean can feel his face warming a little at the phrase; she has no idea how far beyond he and Cas went. Dean offers a shrug.

“Anyone in my shoes would’ve done it,” Dean says.

“No, they wouldn’t have,” Charlie counters. “Just you. So… Thank you, for everything.” Charlie sniffs and a tear drips down her cheek. “Thank you for our family.” Dean pulls her in for another hug and she sniffles into his shoulder.

“It was all you guys,” Dean says. “I did what? Five minutes of work.” Charlie lets out a watery laugh and steps back.

“Do you want to meet her?” Dean blinks in surprise and then nods dumbly.

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “I’d like that.” He follows Charlie into the room. He's met by the sight of a topless Anna sitting in the rocking chair across the room.

“Whoa!” Dean jumps back awkwardly, covering his eyes. “You’re, um… not wearing…”

“It’s for the skin-to-skin contact,” Anna offers with a giggle, pulling a flannel receiving blanket over her and tiny blob curled up on her chest. “Sorry about that.”

“No, no, it’s cool, really,” Dean reassures. “Just unexpected that’s all.” Charlie bites back a laugh as he leads Dean to the chair. He peers close, the pup’s chubby cheek squished against the skin below Anna’s collarbone. Her head is covered by a tiny pink and blue beanie, but Dean can spot the wispy blond hairs poking out at the edge. Her dark eyes blink open slowly, seeming to focus on Dean for a moment and then closing again.

“Wow,” Dean whispers and then straightens up again. “She’s beautiful.”

“Damn straight, she is,” Anna mumbles with a smile. She looks up at Dean. “I hope you don’t mind if we don’t ask if you want to hold her. It’s supposed to only be me and Charlie for the first day or so. It’s part of the bonding process.” Dean holds up a hand in understanding.

“I get it,” he says with a nod. He glances around the room, only seeing the single bed and a pull out sleeper. “Where’s Castiel?”

“He’s in the recovery room next door,” Charlie replies. “He was eating when I left him, but he’s probably done by now if you want to go see him.” She flashes Dean an odd little smile he can’t quite decipher, but nods in agreement anyway.

“Yeah, I’ll do that,” he says. He gives a squeeze to both of their arms before walking next door.

 

* * *

 

Castiel lays on his stomach on the hospital bed, facing the wall, his tablet propped up against the pillow above him. He lazily scrolls through his Facebook, shifting in an effort to get more comfortable. The epidural has started to wear off, meaning the feeling is returning to his lower half in addition to the fresh, dull pain from having just pushed out an 8 lb 3 oz pup.

Claire. His niece.

Charlie and Anna had both been crying as Dr. Shurely handed the gooey, sticky bundle to them. Castiel had just watched as they met their daughter, sweaty and smiling. He was elated for them and seeing the utter joy on Anna’s face made all the hard work and effort of the last year worth it.

It also made Castiel completely sure that he couldn’t go back to Denver. These last few months had shown Castiel how much he missed being with his sister. Add to that, he wants to be a presence in his niece's life, not watch her grow up through Facebook photos and skype calls.

And of course there’s Dean.

Castiel made up his mind somewhere between the epidural and waking up in Dean’s arms a few hours ago that they need to talk. He needs to let Dean know how he feels. Even if he ends up walking away from this … thing they have with a broken heart, at least he’ll know. He won’t spend years wondering about what might’ve been. He exhales heavily through his nose and shakes his head, as if trying to clear away the negativity like cobwebs.

There's a knock at the door and Castiel raises his head at the noise.

“Uh… Yes?” The door opens and Dean steps inside the room.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says, giving a small wave.

“Dean, hello,” he says, pushing himself up on an elbow. His nostrils flare at the first hints of Dean’s scent and he finds himself smiling involuntarily.

“You doing alright?” Dean asks, settling onto the edge of the bed gently. Castiel gives a half shrug.

“Tired,” he admits, “But I can sleep on my stomach and drink caffeinated coffee again, so there’s that.” he says. Dean gives an amused hum.

“Good to hear,” Dean says. “I, uh, saw the pup. Claire, uh… CC?”

“She's cute, isn't she?”

“She’s a lot blonder than I expected,” Dean says.

“Were you blond as a baby?” Castiel turns, resting his head on his fist.

“Dark blond, I think,” Dean says. “I mean, she’s like _really_ blond, though.”

“Well, don't tell her I said anything,” Castiel replies conspiratorially, “but Anna's not a real redhead.” Dean snorts and a quiet lull falls between them. Castiel catches Dean’s gaze; his brow furrows for a moment and then relaxes, like there’s something he wants to say.

“How you feeling?” Dean blurts out.

“Fine,” Cas says, relaxing back onto the pillow. “Some pain, but that’s all.” Dean nods, and stands from the bed, walking to the other side behind Castiel.

“Dean?” he asks. Dean settles onto the bed once more, reclining his legs out.

“This might help,” he says. Castiel’s mouth hangs open, but he lets himself be pulled back into Dean’s arms, his back to Dean’s chest.

“Al-alright,” he says. Dean’s arms wind around his torso and his less-round stomach. The tension drains from Castiel’s shoulders and he curls  back into the familiar feeling of Dean’s hold.

They lay that way for a long while, Castiel thinking about nothing except Dean’s warmth and his scent.

“Uh… Castiel?” Dean finally says after some time. Castiel’s eyes blink open, the nervous tremor in Dean’s voice catching his attention. “Cas, there’s something I need to say.”

“Dean, I-”

“Please just… Just let me get this out,” Dean says. Castiel claps his mouth shut and nods. “Look, I’m not… I’m not going to ask you to stay-” A breath catches in Cas’ throat and it’s like all the air has been punched from his chest. He can feel tears threatening in his eyes.

“It’s not fair to you. It’s not fair for me to assume you want to just… set up house with me and abandon your life in Denver.” Dean continues. Castiel pauses as his words filter in. He glances over his shoulder at Dean, but his eyes are lowered.

“I care about you,” Dean says. “And it has nothing to do with you being pregnant or… the sex, which is amazing, but…” Castiel huffs a little laugh, pulling Dean hands tighter around him. “I’d like to see you.”

“You are seeing me,” Castiel offers, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know what I mean,” Dean says, tightening his embrace. “Look, if you want to take this slow, get your own place. Hell, we can even do the long distance thing, I just… I just want you.” Castiel gives a soft laugh, wiping away a stray tear.

“If you need some time, or want to take a few weeks to-” Castiel flips around in Dean’s arms, ignoring the jolt of pain at the movement,  and cuts him off with a kiss. Dean gasps against his lips in surprise and kisses him back, his hands moving from Castiel’s waist up to cup his chin. Castiel lets himself be pulled forward as Dean deepens the kiss, his tongue pressing into his mouth tenderly. A shiver of happiness runs through Castiel and he clenches his hands over Dean’s shoulders. Dean’s teeth run over Castiel’s bottom lip, tugging a little then diving back into the kiss.

“Cas,” Dean breathes out against his lips. “Is that-?”

“I’d like that,  Dean,” Castiel blurts out finally. “I’d like to… continue this too.” Dean huffs a laugh, leaning their foreheads together. The sound of throat clearing grabs their attention and they pull apart to see Meg standing at the end of the bed, arms folded and that same impish expression on her face.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbles as he pulls back and slowly sits up.

“No, no, don’t let me stop you,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Just no getting frisky, okay?”

“I couldn’t get frisky even if I wanted to,” Castiel mutters, grimacing in pain as he sits up.

“You’ll be right as rain in a couple weeks. No worries.” Castiel could swear he sees Meg shoot a wink at Dean as she says it. Dean moves off the bed, letting Meg evaluate Castiel’s healing. She gives him a paper cup of ibuprofen and a glass of water before zipping out of the room once more.

Dean stands awkwardly, shifting his stance for a moment, before speaking up. “I should probably let you go and get some rest.” he says.

“Actually.” Castiel turns and drops his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m so wound up right now, there’s no way I’m sleeping.”

“Do want to go see the pup?” Dean asks with a raised eyebrow. Castiel smiles and nods.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, stepping into his slippers. Castiel takes Dean’s offered hand, intertwining their fingers as they walk next door.


	9. Chapter 9

High pitched squeals echo across the yard and Castiel catches a bright pink flash before two-year-old CC comes barreling toward the patio, a grinning but winded Dean following after her. 

“Mama, help!” CC cries out, scrambling into Charlie’s lap and throwing her tiny arms around her neck. “Save me!” Charlie looks up at Dean, who’s bent at the waist, hands on his thighs as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Were you trying to scare her on her birthday?” Charlie gawks.

“I was just trying to tickle her.” Dean throws his hands out plaintively. “She just started screaming.”

“Tickle monster!” CC shouts, shooting Dean a murderous look.

“I thought she was having fun,” Dean shrugs.

“She doesn’t really… like being tickled,” Anna offers apologetically. “It’s kind of a new thing. She’ll be over it in a couple weeks.” Dean starts to say something, but Castiel places a hand on his, stopping him. Dean sighs and flops down into the chair next to him.

“What kid doesn’t like being tickled?” Dean gripes.

“CC, apparently,” Castiel murmurs, taking a sip from his cup.

“I loved being tickled as a kid,” Dean continues. “Sam and I would get into these huge tickle fights, laughing until we pissed ourselves.” Castiel pauses mid drink and gives Dean a questioning look.

“That sounds… fun?” Dean shakes his head dismissively.

“All I’m saying is most kids like being tickled.” he glances over to Charlie, her smile beaming as she acts out itsy bitsy spider with her daughter. “Or maybe the Winchester genetics just weren’t strong enough.” 

“I’d go with the latter,” Castiel snorts. There’s noise across the yard and CC is once again on her feet, laughing and running toward an arriving Gabriel, arms loaded with a huge pink box. 

“Oh geez,” Anna sighs. “Please don’t say he bought her another princess Castle.” 

“I think he wants to win favorite uncle,” Castiel points out, glancing over his shoulder to where Gabriel is tossing his giggling niece in the air. 

“Between the three of you,” Anna shakes her head, “Not to mention Hannah’s kids, she is so spoiled.”

“Well, you’ll have a couple more soon to spread the love,” Hannah says, waddling up from behind, her own pregnant belly looking desperately large, even at 6 months. When Charlie had mentioned going for baby #2, Hannah had eagerly volunteered to be their surrogate.

They hadn’t expected twins though.

“I guess I just had  _ womb  _ for them.” Only Hannah and Dean found her ridiculous pun hilarious.

She slowly lowers herself into an empty patio chair, holding onto Gadreel’s hand for support. Gadreel offers Dean and Castiel a stiff nod and then reaches into a nearby cooler for a beer. 

“You guys want one?” he glances back at them. Dean takes a bottle, but Castiel declines, lifting his own plastic cup as Gadreel pulls a seat up next to his wife.

“How are you feeling, Hannah?” Castiel asks. 

“Oh, y’know, fine, tired,” she says. She frowns and runs a hand up her breastbone. “Heartburn is pretty bad.”

“Just means Twineas and Ferb are going to have lots of hair then,” Charlie jokes, reaching out and rubbing a hand over Hannah’s bump. 

“So I’ve gotta ask,” Dean starts, leaning on his knees. “You are sure you don’t know the alpha donor this time? It's not some random barista or something?” Castile presses his tongue to his cheek, holding back a laugh as Charlie exhales heavily and rolls her eyes.

“Funny, Dean,” she says sarcastically,

“ _ Yes, we're sure _ ,” Anna insists, “We looked at pictures this time. It was no one either of us knew. He lives a thousand miles away or something.”

“Some guy in Louisiana actually,” Charlie offers. “Looked like a big teddy bear.” Hannah gives a pained laugh and lets her head fall to the back of the chair.

“Big? Oh joy,” she mumbles.

“Have you two put any more thought into kids?” Anna asks, changing the topic. Castiel blinks rapidly and looks at Dean.

“Uh, well, We…”

“Yes, we’re thinking about it,” Dean says, slyly squeezing Castiel's hand. “But we've only been mated like… A year-”

“16 months,” Charlie counters.

“We're not in any rush right now,” Dean says. Castiel nods in agreement, hoping that will be the end of the questions. Thankfully, Gabriel chooses that moment to approach the group, CC hanging off his back.

“I was told by the young Princess Claire Celeste that there is a Tickle Monster in need of defeating.” Dean smiles and sets down his beer, rising from his seat. 

“Guess that means I'm up,” he says. He gives Castiel’s hand a light squeeze as he goes after a galloping Gabriel and CC. The conversation continues, but Castiel find his gaze locked on his mate, chasing after his niece and brother.

Dean hadn”t been lying, they had been thinking about having a pup of their own. Seriously thinking about it. So seriously, in fact, that is was no longer just a thought. 

Castiel lightly touches his still flat stomach. He's only about eight weeks along so far, not quite far enough to share the news with everyone, but getting there.

Dean continues to play with CC and the other kids until Anna announces it’s time for cake and presents. The group moves en masse into the house. Dean brings up the rear, flashing Castiel a wink as he takes his hand.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to extend a special thank you to my Beta reader, [Whataboutthefish](http://whataboutthefish.tumblr.com/). Thank you for all your hard work and support helping me along with this story.
> 
> As always, thank you to my wifeys: [Winjennster](http://winjennster.tumblr.com/), [ANobleCompanion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion), [Trekchik](http://trekchik.tumblr.com/), and [Metatron-the-Transformer](http://metatron-the-transformer.tumblr.com/). You listened to me hem and haw for months over this and I am endlessly grateful.


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